Sick as your Secrets
by Lydia Banes
Summary: Damian Wayne has never questioned who he was and hardly ever what he did. He's cold, calculated, intelligent and deadly. So what, or who, could possibly phase him? Chp 12 IS UP
1. Sick as your Secrets 1

**Authors Note: I'm not sure where this ****story ties in for the timeline, obviously after New 52. This story include many major Batman/DC universe characters tying in with Original Characters. I was nervous about starting out with OC's, but who wants to keep reading the same stories over and over and over again? I wanted to work with something/someone new. **

**And obviously, let's ignore Morrison's hand in Damian's timeline. **

**This is rated T+ for language, gore, sexual situations or innuendo etc. Please feel free to comment or critique; I'm slightly fumbling through this story so far, trying to get the ideas down. I know there's plenty of room to trim the fat, so any and all thoughts are appreciated.****  
**

**_I'm far from home..._**

_Gotham city seems like it is teeming with energy, some sort of soft buzz that you inhale almost immediately as you enter the city's core, looking out on all the bridges, the buildings, the harbor that encircles this timeless place._

_I already feel like I'm crawling in my skin. This timeless city has its past, its present and it's cruel, cruel intentions. But if you travel far enough, deep enough, like I have, you'll realize that every single street in every single city has at least once tasted blood. _

_It's only a matter of pomp and circumstance, a slot on the dinner-time-news that damns us or hides our dirty, stained secrets. _

It's nearly dawn when Bruce and Damien return to retire for the evening. The most eerie part of the evening was that it consisted of nothing- nothing! hardly any simple street thugs that disrupted the night. The good ol' GPD handled the minor incidents without any _further_ incident. It had set Damien on a whirlwind and he couldn't really admit is anxiety. It was a calm evening, such a rare sight indeed. Battles between he and his father have waxed and waned as Damian is nearly 18 now, his hormones and violence, his rage and inner demons rearing their head more commonly than they had been the past few years.

Damian leaves the cave before his father can even comment on the strangeness he felt of the night. A trail of his yellow cape, green boots littered through the doorway as Bruce caught the large shadow Titus cast as he sauntered after the boy. Damian had transferred into jeans and a t-shirt, shoving a cold sandwich Pennyworth had handed him on his way out as he threw a tennis ball idly for Titus to tear after.

**_"I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin..."_** Damian sighed inwardly, chewing hard on his food and threw the ball again and Titus took off after it, vanishing behind the bushes that created the horizon. Titus's low growls and barking alerted him from his brooding and on instinct Damian tore after the dog, pupils dilated with anticipation and his heart thrumming with excitement at something to focus all his excess energy on.

Titus stopped barking shortly, forcing Damian to run even fast to meet with him. The giant dog's body was low to the ground, lips quivering and growling low. Damian paused as he drew even with his companion and a small smile played at the corner of his lips.

"*tt* sick 'em," and off the dog ran, Damien waiting to follow for only a few steps.

The boy lost sight of him quickly, but followed the clear loud barking, but shortly that stopped all together. Damien, confused before concerned, quickened hastily to find a silhouette and his dog...Titus was on his back.

_"What do you think you're doing here?!__**"**_ The boy yelled, startling the shadowy figure even though the barks of the Great Dane and running boy clearly alerted this person to their presence.

"I'm sorry," The woman, no young girl, shrugged out of her hood as the dog rolled at her feet before leaning on its back legs and jumping up, causing a grimace to pull down her peach lips.

"Titus!" the Damian snapped and the chastised dog is at his side in the blink of an eye.

"He could have mauled you, and you could deserve it, Lady, for breaking and entering on private property!" Damien seethed about the fact his dog didn't do his duty as a guard.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I had no idea this was private property." the girl shrugged, awkwardly running her hands through her own short, asymmetrical hair as she kept eye contact with Damian. Her green eyes didn't even flicker away from the constant glaring gaze he returned her.

"What are you doing here?!" he yelled, barely controlling his anger, the girl's eyes glancing towards his slowly balling fists.

"I'm sorry," she spoke finally meaning it. _My first night in this new forsaken city and I've already got my head nearly on a stick. Way to go, Remmy._ "I was in the woods you see-"

"The woods?" he doesn't mask his disbelief.

"Yes, I'm not from around here, I was trying to find an old hotel out this way, it's supposed to be close to the Wayne Manner or something. I thought with how large the grounds were here I might have finally found my way." and the strangers voice is thin, pissed and tired. "I meant no harm, sir." she held up her hands slowly and stopped as his just barely flinched. Normal people would have never seen the reaction.

"Who are you?"

"Doesn't matter, which way can I leave?"

"*tt*"

"Fine!" The girl marched forward and Damian swung aside as if preparing to be attacked. The girl blanched staring at him in either disgust or surprise before hurrying her steps to the obvious front gate. She fled with the shadows as dawn peaked and the dog and his frustrated boy turned homeward.

"Make a new friend?" Bruce asked upon his sons return.

"*tt"


	2. Sick as your Secrets 2

**_No sleep for the wicked, no rest until you're dead. _**

_Gotham is freakin' expensive, after working three jobs I can totally understand why that cat burglar is on a spree. I've been working at a coffee shop, retail store and FINALLY got into reception at one of the smaller News Papers in the city. _

_My apartment isn't much, dingy and in a not-so-well-off part of the city, but it's mine. The inexpensive futon, the used dishes I got at goodwill, the clanky, clinking heaters that hardly work and the suitcase of clothes and backback of essentials I've managed are all mine. __It's been just over a month since I've showed up in this city. A whole month without being heckled or harassed or needing to harm anyone. A whole free month. I guess I should have counted my blessings._

_"_Can I help you?" And as Damian Wayne whirled around Remmy and he made eye contact for the first time. He studied the girls figure as she seemed caught off guard and paused after she asked him for any help. It was his scent that stalled her -it hit her senses so hard she was momentarily stunned- it was fresh from water that isn't infused with minerals or fluoride and such a hint of cologne that it probably wasn't his, but something he picked up while walking through the open mall.

How is it he is here and not flocked by paparazzi? How in the world did one of the Wayne sons sneak away?

"*tt*" and any hormones that raced through Remmy's system turned off as her eyes darkened on the lips that clicked in front of her.

"I"ll take that as a 'no'," she turned on heel to go put shirts back onto the hangers on the wall.

"I thought you weren't from around here." he purred, sounding cruel more than casual as he slid up behind her, making the hair on the back of her neck rise in panic or defense, shoulders bunching forward as she turned, "I'm not, I just moved here." And her answer was met with a cold hard gaze.

"You're still sneaking around peoples houses you mean?"

"Are you only here to publicly humiliate me, Damian Wayne?"

"*tt*"

"I thought so, now if you'll exscuse me, I have to finish my shift and head on out. You know, like the rest of Gotham citizens, and I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from rubbing your wealth and status in my face for future reference." She said in a mocking, disgustingly sweet tone and didn't give him the chance to respond before walking away. She stole a glance over her shoulder, but only noticed that though his face was calm and collected as he left, his fists were clenched again, twingeing.

And the tell-tale paparazzi, somehow subdued or simply chasing him, had finally caught up to him. And he was swarmed right outside her store.

"God damn it, " Remmy murmured and grabbed her bag, clocking out to leave. She threw her hood up, squirming into the mass of people, flashing cameras and screaming questions and Damian's resolve visibly dwindled as he tried to pass through. Remmy grabbed his hand which he jerked back in surprise,

"Chill, move," somehow made it through gritted teeth as she reached out a tighter grip for his hand and yanked him forward, urging them through the mass of people before running hand in hand through alleyways to the next street over.

"Why'd you do that?" he snapped bitterly, not even winded as they raced through the back alleys that are poorly lit and littered with garbage.

"Because it didn't look like you were about to without swinging on someone. C'mon!" she replied as if it were the hundredth time and sighed sharply turning left out onto another main road, one bereft of paparazzi, but filled with passer-bys and expensive cars being valeted. They made it to Gotham's famous theater district.

"Damian!" both turned quickly towards Damian's father, the near legend, Bruce Wayne as he waved him down towards an expensive all black and shiny car that had windows so tinted you could see your own reflection._ What a life_. Bruce quickly realized his son was with a window young woman and stepped over to the pair after Damian made no motion to retreat to the car.

"So that's why you snuck off? To be with your friend! Hi there!" and as shocked as Damian's face was, Remmy's burned a deep red that forced her to look down in an attempt to hide it from the two Wayne's.

Air caught in her throat, Remmy made it two steps towards the few foot gap between them before Damian retorts: "She's not my friend." and an angry sigh escaped her lips as she suddenly realized she had been holding her breath.

"Oh?" his father looked more annoyed than concerned as Damian looked sqaurely at him and obviously avoiding his companion.

"No, sir, I just tried to help him out of a hairy situation." Remmy shrugged, backing up from them and towards the alleyway in which she had just emerged. She felt panic and embarrassment burn through her veins, convinced that her whole body was a bright blushing red as she had been foolish enough to think that she could even help Damian Wayne, heir to the Wayne corporations and fame. She was dumb enough to think he even needed it, she now didn't doubt that he had some sort of handlers or bodyguards and she must have looked like a little girl trying to be a super hero.

"Well, he's sure good at that. Especially wandering around down town Gotham on a Friday Night." his father's voice though calm, found an edge of sternness that Damian rolled his eyes at before walking towards the car.

"Aren't you going to thank her?"

Damian's abohorent expression was caught by Remmy and that stark embarrassment was rekindled to disinterest for the child and snapped back, "Don't mention it." before turning toe and stomping off too loudly to care.

_Thank god it's the full moon tonight, after all, every good deed goes unpunished right? This girl needs to blow off some steam. _A few blocks away from the theater district Remmy exhaled and ascended the fire escape of her apartment building to the roof. The crisp night air of the ending winter was getting colder by the minute and even though on average her body ran hot, she hugged the thin jacket closer. The clouds obscured the moon and the bat symbol glared larger than Remmy had ever noticed across the murky sky. No stars poked through, just purple and blue clouds backlit from the glowing moon. A smile played at her lips as her pace picked up, green eyes blinking fiercely as they teared up and slowly the pigments shifted to gold and red.

_ My skin itches so badly I could tear it off_. But transforming into a monster in the middle of gotham wasn't the best of ideas. The best idea shot across her mind and she could have damned herself of not thinking of it earlier- there was now one place that she wanted to roam more than anywhere else. She shot off into the direction of Wayne Manor

_I will not commend myself for traveling the streets of Gotham at one in the morning on a full moon. Nope, never_.

"Hey, baby," And this was another attempt from a man who was either binging on drugs, alcohol- or better- both, making a pass at her.

"Back off," She couldn't even pretend she was scared for her life, like she knew she should. But her skin itched, her muscles twitching and she couldn't even hide her demonic eyes as the left was blood red and the right shifted to a light gold. She had, had enough. She just wanted to be free- just this one night.

"Aww, don't be like that," another one cooed from behind._ Shit_. The obvious edge in her body had distracted her from her surroundings and she now realized with a sinking feeling in her stomach that she was surrounded. There were five men, all under an influence of some sort and none of them could have been much older than herself.

"Why tonight?" she asked with an angry sigh as they stepped closer and she dropped her hood. Though her rigid body was appearing to be ready to fight, Remmy ran for the closest fire escape to avoid them. Instead three pursued. Who knew junkies could be so fast? But the adrenaline and coursing power through her system sent her up another fire escape and stumbling onto a roof before she could realize it and prevent herself from scattering across the gravel that helped drain the roof of another large complex.

"You crazy bitch, stop! Get back here! we just want to have some fun!" and their chorus of inebriated laughter is all she heard before sending herself flying over the edge, rolling into a mess of limbs and clothes on the other side. Even with this distance she could hear their incoherent screaming and swearing fall away as she collected herself, assessing ripped open palms, knees and her cheek. She was going to bruise like a pear by the morning. At this point, she couldn't care less. She was finally at the edge of the city, the roads openings towards woods that encircled the wealthier parts of town. She sighed, drinking in the freezing night and horizon that was pitch black now, the only illumination of the sky was the moon and the bat signal hanging heavy above her.

"What are you doing here?!" and just like that she snapped back to reality as her arm was gripped, sending her spinning halfway back to be pulled into the body of one of this City's legends: Robin. The boy Wonder...and they were nose to nose. Her mouth dropped and dried instantly at the proximity and sight, incapable of responding to the caped crusader. Though she was confused how she had no idea where he had come from. Her eyes widened as she realized she didn't even smell him.

"I'm leaving," she found herself trying to yank her arm free only to have it met with a firmer grip.

"You're putting yourself in danger!"

"I look fine to me," her lips thinned as she remembered her hands and knees were pooling with blood, the cold night air making her unsure of how her face even looked.

"Hardly." He chastised.

"Sorry! Go back to playing superboy to the people that need it than!" she yelled now, yanking her arm again with more force as she attempted to leave. The woods were so close, its all she could smell and all she could hear was the pounding her ears as her heart raced. And she was pissed as his grip tightened, painfully so as it felt like he was staunching the natural blood flow to her hand.

"I would if silly little girls like you would stop running around my city causing trouble!"

"Oh, please!" she laughed, spitting back, "I got out of that just fine."

"And the two other people that made you uncomfortable enough to get off the bus at central square?"

"How- why are you _following_ me?"

"I knew you'd be trouble! and YOU ARE WELCOME! I took care of these crooks for you."

"_Enough_!" she practically screamed, the pressure inside of her body growing too fierce, the smell of the pine in the woods too overwhelming and she yanked her hand to stomp away as her blood boiled at the idea another man telling her what to do and acting as if she owed them an apology. She never asked this kid to throw on a speedo and cape. But Robin doesn't let go, instead her wrist gave out and with a crack and a sharp, constant pain she instantly knew it was broken.

He finally conceded and let go of the girl, watching as the girls own eyes slowly trailed finding her arm lowered and her hand limp beyond the snapped wrist. The skin was already bruising and even shocked, Remmy could feel the thrumming pain slowly gaining in ability and traveling up her arm.

"Uggghhh!" She hissed, ducking low as she ran towards the fire escape. Though stalled, Robin pursued.

"Wait, I need to help you!" his yell was a command, not an apology.

"You've done enough, I assure you!" the sarcasm was dripping through each word as she struggled down the ladders with one able arm.

"Stop!" he barked jumping from landing to landing to stall and get in her way.

"Back off!" She stopped, screaming so close to his face that they were nose to nose again. She inhaled so sharply it nearly made her dizzy. Clean soap and faint cologne.

"Stop running!"

Remmy was over the railing as he commanded her again, landing ten feet down and spilling on her knees again. She instinctively tried to break her fall with her hands and screamed in pain as she fell forward, her wrist shattering. In that painful pause, she knew she was going to lose it and her vision was blurring. With the telltale sign of the wind beneath his cape, she made a wild dash for the woods as Robin landed somewhere behind her.

_Relief, sweet, sweet relief._

Remmy's body transformed in seconds, out of sight for the boy wonder to pursue. He found nothing as he traced her and the communicator with his father demanding his return was grudgingly answered. The boy stalled, glaring into the woods as he couldn't tell if the bushes had shivered from the cold, dead wind, Remmy or an animal beyond.

"ROBIN!" and his concentration broke as he turned tale, whipping his way back the rooftops and back to his fathers side.

Red and gold eyes glared beyond the shadows following his retreat. Remmy, in a monstrous form turned tail- or rather, tails-and ran to the line of woods before Wayne Manor.


	3. Sick as your Secret 3

**_It's dawn by the time I'm home._**

_I've lost my jacket and shoes and though my body heals rapidly and usually entirely when I transform into another shape I am covered in bruises, my cheek is still scrape and my wrist is swollen and sore- but thankfully no longer broken. _

_I hardly lock the door before I am collapsing onto my weak futon. I am exhausted. _

__It's after six at night and Remmy was fresh from a shower when the knocking at her door startled her. Her mind raced, confused as to how anyone could find her, let alone who. There was no peephole to spy through, so wrapped in her towel, she peered through the door with the safety chain intact and was face to face with Damian Wayne. She was startled to see him and he was startled to see her in a towel.

His eyes widened a fraction and asked harshly, "What happened to you?"

She slammed the door shut in his face and opened it just as quickly, having to remove the safety chain.

_ "_Nothing, I ran into some punks coming home." She was pulling the white towel tighter around her, Damian absolutely entranced by the fact she had the darkest tattoos he's ever seen in designs he somehow found familiar, but couldn't recognize. She drank in his tailored suit with the same silent, hidden hunger. But she was the first to look away, blushing hard again and stumbled to her room, quickly slamming another door. Anxiety went so far to grip her throat and chest, eyes painfully scanning her scarred arms, praying this awkward night wouldn't try to be remedied by an awkward conversation of her answering the door half naked. She walked back out in jeans and a sweatshirt, toweling her hair and acting as if nothing transpired and he hadn't caught a glimpse of anything really embarrassing.

"I wanted to thank you for yesterday, but" he shrugs, awkwardly shuffling to suddenly hand her a trimmed rose.

She slowly reached out to grab it, eyebrows pulling forward in confusion, "Why are you here?"

"I told you." his response was sharp, the question annoyed him, but his eyes scanned her. _Like prey. _

"What really happened to you last night?" he replies tersley.

"I told you," she shrugged, rolling the rose in between her fingers.

"Did your daddy make you do this?" she smiled at him, going to sniff the rose as Damian turned on heel and was out the door before she could even register the smell.

_Double shit. _

* * *

"Father, I'm here." Titus came trotting to Damian, sniffing at his hands slowly. "Let's just get a move on." and the boy sighed and looked down at his dog who was so entranced in a scent he found on the boys body and his large tail started wagging away.

Bruce looked to his son warily, but with a set jaw nodded and lead them to their suits.

That evening Batman and Robin meet with commissioner Jim Gordon at the batsignal.

"There's been a disturbance around the permiter of the city," Jim spreads out a map of Gotham, heavy red x's and circles marking around the cities forests, parks and a few more suburban areas.

"What kind of disturbances?" Damian cuts to the chase, obviously irritable and on edge.

"Well, it's strange, something I haven't really seen before."

Batman looks at him warily as Jim rubs his temples, removing his glasses.

"It's nothing serious, it's simply forming an uneasy pattern. There are a lot of livestock and wildlife showing up absolutely maimed, as if being attacked by a pack of wild dogs. Some people too, are uh, showing up in hospitals and showing obvious signs of dog wounds. The only problem is that they're much, much larger than any normal dog. Or any wolf for christs sake."

"So you think there's some sort of dog fighting ring on the outskirts of the city?" Damian is exasperated already, ready to jump into the mess of this and destroy all the abusers.

"Perhaps, yes, that's one theory."

Batman eyes him through his cowl, reading into the commissioners tone.

"The patterns are just strange, they are almost consistently a week long, all night attacks and during the week in which the moon is fullest."

"*tt!* you're going to tell me we have a werewolf on our hands?! C'mon," and like that he turns away, feeling his whole night is about to be wasted if he can't crack a few ribs momentarily.

"There are also the victims that are relaying these stories, Robin." Commissioner finally adds, replacing his glasses. "Every single one is the same, every single time it's closer and closer to the city and nearly every time more violent. These are all criminals too, all nearly vigilante attacks. The victims of this wolf, or dog, or whatever, are usually first attacking someone. You know, stealing their bag at knife point or mugging someone..Than they're attacked. Some of the original victims have stepped forward and added to the amounting evidence of this...dog-like-attacker. I just wanted to clear with you two this isn't some Metropolis show off or some friend or foe you've kept under your wing?" he sighs and doesn't believe in his question, just needs to cross the t's and dot the i's of his investigation.

"No, Jim, no friend or foe we've heard of. Yet." Batman turns, joining Robin at his side. "We'll look into it."

"Good, tonight's a good night," he nods toward the clearing sky as the moon looks alarmingly close to the city, full and glaringly yellow-white.

"what do you think it is?" Robin asks, glancing up at his father.

"We'll see."

* * *

Remmy shuttered as she stared out the grimy, cold window. She could see a soft reflection of her nude body, but it was the furthest thing from her focus. The aged tattoos and the scars that covered her from her collarbones to her toes were revealed, her short hair askew from the lack of care. Under the blinding white scars was the darkest ink that swirled endless across her shoulders, the curve between the blades and under her armpits. Over the caps of her arms, her jutting collarbones shifted from scar tissue to pale skin and ash ink that has been healed for years, this pattern followed down her breast and stopped as it neared the bottom of her ribs. The patterns picked up again across lower stomach, her hips and backside, all swirling and contorting to fit the perfect natural shapes of her figure and stopped at mid thigh. The scars, thick, thin and jagged sporadically ran the rest of the length of her long, scrawny legs and over her feet. Her arms, all the way back to her tattoos and her back were covered in chunks of missing history, stories and missing links that she hid from the world every single day. And though she was cold and ashamed of her body, this night was her one guilty pleasure to be different- to be separate from the nightmares and the shame she shouldered in silence every single day, the suffering armor she's acquired from too many sickening secrets.

And with a last shudder and a creeping smile across her pale pink lips, it was a daring, or lazy, feat as she ran out onto the fire escape, hardly human leaping two stories to the ground to land on extended animalistic feet and hands that were more claws and bones than anything else. Heavily padded and secure, her shifting body absorbed the transference of energy instead of rattling from it. She was off, all silver and white scarred animal that she was, gleaming red and gold eyes- the two tones give way to her other-wordly demonic heritage. And if she had been spied in that moment, she truly looked like a classic wolf man, her heritage the inspiration of the sickness in human history so long ago.


	4. Sick as your Secrets 4

****Her body was relaxed, sated after spending the last two weeks shifting every single night and patrolling the outer circles of this city. Remmy relished in the fact that her complexion was clear and glowing, her stomach was firmer and her legs were tender with each step because they only further proved to her their worth after they've endured so much each night. Her knuckles were no longer sore and bruised or broken from attacking horrendous cowards on these hellish streets of Gotham. Her guts no longer burned with rotten remains of flesh, hair and bone. And her eyes had settled back to an illusion of green. And her wrist wasn't broken. The one Robin had weeks ago; the one she was rubbing as her daydreams caught up and made her stumble in the present reality.

"Remmy?"

"What?!" she snapped back, half startled her boss glared down at her, the older woman's wits obviously fried while Remmy's were nowhere to be found.

"Could you please do your job? You know, the one we pay you for? The one you agreed to do?!" she spat venom as she stormed away leaving more files to be put away, the office of the Local Gotham paper buzzing like an overpopulated hive. This was her job; answer the phone, make appointments and file half of the contents of the building.

And as relaxed and relieved as she finally felt, she was setting herself up for failure and she could only just start to feel it in the back of her mind. But Remmy endured.

As the eleven-o-clock lull occurred most editors and interviews were winding down for their lunch breaks, nothing eye catching or hurrying in the publications of the inner workings of Gotham. The Batman Incorporated was slowly reigning back off the front-lines of business, but all fail-safes existed as wonderful photographs of the Dark Knight and the Boy Wonder triumphant over protecting these grimy streets were always available to market to the Gothamites. So comforted by the quiet and dimmed hum of conversations as most of the people exited the building and the _tap, tap, tap _of the constant rain across the windows, Remmy was half asleep before a dampened newspaper was thrown down in front of her face.

The headlines screamed across the grey newsprint: "_NEW MONSTERS IN TOWN! WEREWOLF fighting Rings spring up through out Gotham_!" and eye witness accounts and a fantastic artists rendition of a great big snarling beast was in front of her through Gotham Chronicles, the weekly tabloid and super-power "news" source of the print in the area. The picture made a spike of panic crawl deep within her stomach and as her eyes peered up to Damian Wayne, black hair thrown into his eyes from the rain and his expensive coat slicked and beautiful, another pull entered her stomach.

Remmy took a deep breath, reminding herself: _I am not a werewolf._

"Good morning to you too," her voice was calm, almost too calm as she responded to him. She picked up the tabloid and flipped through the rest of it's garbage, finding a bat-boy-hybrid that is supposedly living in abandoned buildings by the pier, all the while he somehow drinks human blood, has been seen dating Wonder Woman and it went on and on and on...

"I was surprised that this isn't the paper you were working for."

"Why?" Her stomach slightly relaxed as her panic was relieved. However, she was wrapped in an internal battle of kicking herself into intelligence as there is no reason that she could be mistaken as a Werewolf. _There was no reason that Damian Freakin' Wayne would think I was a werewolf. I am not a werewolf. _

"*tt* because this one is reputable." he responded as if asked if he could breathe.

Remmy's cheeks burned a raging vermilion, words bleeding out of her: "Get lost, twerp!" throwing the paper back in his face. She was on her feet before she could second guess it, stomping in six inch stilettos towards him. Damian backed up as she advanced and there was no stopping the scene that she erupted in the lobby.

"What is it?! What is your_ PROBLEM_?!" she was in his face, the healed palms of her hands pushing him hard, but not moving him an inch. He stood his ground as she rambled on, "You've harassed me at now two of my three jobs! Somehow you found my house, tried barging your way into making plans with me and now this? This bullshit?! You think because your dear, rich daddy runs this city that you can annoy and stalk whoever you damn well please?Just- just spare me!" she was exasperated, throwing her arms up in defeat towards him. Meeting his eyes she found there blazing as painfully as her own. She had lost it, her relaxed and languid divinity from finding her release on attacking horrible people. She had found calm because she didn't have to hide from a single human being, didn't have to answer to anyone. Remmy didn't have to fake her way through days, pretending to be nice and become acquantances and work her ass off to support herself in a shitty city where she had so much more somewhere else...somewhere she was running from. She was tired of it all- the running from powerful, self entitled people and that was it. That was her breaking point.

Damian's lips thinned, but her boss betrayed her, screaming: _"REMMY MURDOCK!" _her face as red as the girls, hair sticking out every which way.

"Shove it, Betsey." Remmy growled back with an eye roll, grabbing her bag and hauling it over her shoulder. She stomped passed Damian Wayne with a swagger that screamed hate and pride.

She threw open the double glass doors and the rain and thunder outside never phased her, the constant _tap, tap, tap_, speeding up as she walked down the street. Her breath was rapid and her lungs burned from the exhausting anxiety she forced herself into and the cold air felt relieving as her pace picked up and she sped away from this embarrassing mark of her adventure in Gotham City.

Damian Wayne wasn't the save face his father was and stomped out as unceremoniously as she had. But something pushed him to follow out after her. Something, it wasn't guilt for this girls absolute social break down, but he had gone there for questioning, for answers, for the idea of taking her out to the lunch at the cafe down the street he's seen her frequent at the wee hours of the morning.

"Hey," he called out, shaking his head of the memories that he'd sneak out for minutes at a time on patrol and find her, shaky and half awake going to get a caramel something or other.

"HEY!" he barked, fists unconsciously balling next to him as he tilted his head down to stop the onlsaught of rain into his eyes.

She whirled, long burlap bag swinging so hard it collided into the front of her hips, making her waver on the broken concrete of the sidwalk and water. Damian caught her just in time, saving her from getting soaking wet. But her heel broke and her bag spilled everywhere as she gasped in his arms. They were so strong, holding her as if it were nothing, her whole weight somehow magnificently balanced against his body. She had gasped as she fell, the sound dying as she stared into his beautiful blue eyes, his dripping wet hair falling so close to her forehead she could feel the small streams forming off of them. He smelled clean.

"Hey," she whispered, hardly moving her lips to speak. His pupils constricted and his face went thin, his features drawing out a stern look as he tried to balance her back on her feet.

"Fuck," she sighed, throwing her head back into the rain and somehow smiling as thunder rattled above them.

And she dropped to her knees, soaking herself even more as she gathered her broken shoe and shoved all her things back into her sopping wet bag. Papers, several notebooks, now ruined comic books, a cellphone, birth control, makeup and a wallet. He took notice of all of them; including the books on demonic histories and possesion.

"What is the matter with you?"

She stumbled to her feet, smiling because she had nothing else to do. But when she turned his face had actually dropped, his eyebrows furrowed together, often thin lips slightly slack. Her arms flew out at her sides and flopped back down, an exaggerated shrug of defeat.

"What else do you want from me, Damian? Seriously? Do you just enjoy flaunting yourself around? If you couldn't guess, I'm done with you embarrassing me and I am BEYOND done with being polite." she started to walk away again, shoes in hand, body soaked to the bone. Her chiffon shirt clinging to her body.

"Where are you going?" he couldn't even keep his thoughts strung together as he jogged after her, "You're going to get sick." Before Remmy opened her mouth, he was ordering Alfred Pennyworth to pick them up.

"Thanks, but I feel like this is pretty unnecessary." She was frustrated and cold, and the old familiar itch was burning under her skin. She need a coffee and food in her and her body was screaming for something else, craving for something, but she couldn't figure it out.

"*tt*"

* * *

"Damian, why the fuck are you still here?" He had forced her to drive in a limousine with him to her house, had to have the door opened for her and he refused to stay behind and was walking her to her door. "You threw a nonsense paper in my face about werewolves, pissed me off so much that I walked out on my job only to have you somehow catch me in the rain and get me a coffee and drive me home. What the fuck do you want?" And her voice cracked, defeated and quiet. The truth behind it was that in a way, she was happy she lost her marbles at work today and as much as she complained and told him it was unnecessary, she enjoyed the small gestures of him wanting to open the car door for her and seeing her to her door. It wasn't a matter of masculinity or chivalry or any such social garbage- it was the simple enjoyment of his company. Regardless of his personality being a double edged sword, she wanted to keep pushing his buttons. She wanted him to keep coming back. She wanted to figure out why. He was taken aback by my suddenness, but she was more visibly shocked as his face turned ice cold.

"Stop." he commanded, freezing her as his command felt paralyzing. Something in his tone made her muscles clench, his strong arms were around hers and her shoes and bag fell tot he floor as he maneuvered Remmy behind him and softly pushed the ajar door open. He looked back to her, bring there faces nose to nose again as he found himself searching her dilated pupils, trying to figure out why she had gasped. But he pulled away from the warmth of her body as her lips slightly parted and he felt like he couldn't pull away. Now wasn't the time. Damian glanced back at the heavy scars in the door frame where the lock should latch and entered the apartment silently.

When Remmy could breathe again, getting over the smell of his clean skin and an unnamed spicy cologne, she knew this wasn't a break in. It was an instant headache; she owned next to nothing- clothes and a warm blanket. This was her past coming to find her.

"Shit!" and now Damian was inside with someone that he could never in his life handle.

"Damian!" she shouted, shoving the door open and seeing the boy whirl to face her from the furthest window. He made it in front of her faster than she could process, forcing her backwards they were huddled together in the entryway once more.

"Someone could have been in there waiting for you!" he seethed, his hot breath that smelled of hot chocolate brushing across her face. It was intoxicating, her lower stomach clenching as she inhaled deeply the smell she now associated with him, burring that small pleasure deep behind her stoic expression.

"No," She replied, her body relaxing as it brushed against his and she felt as if her stomach was pulling closer towards her spine. Damian's eyes focused on hers, searching once more as they fell to her lips. His pupils constricted in her line of vision and his hand released from her lower back, stepping away as Remmy nearly stumbled.

"Well...you're right, no one was left. But your place is trashed and we need to get you out of here." He was already walking back down the hall. Remmy stayed put, her soaking wet arms clung to by sheet black cotton cross across her chest and said in a steadier voice,

" one's here, I've got to call the cops, throw away my good pair of shoes, wash my clothes and go to sleep so I can be ready for my other job and figure out another way to get a good job into writing." She sounded tired so suddenly it made Damian's veins accelerate. He felt suddenly nervous as he watched her bring her hands to bridge of her nose, pinching it hard.

"Don't be ridiculous." he said, speed disarming Remmy again as he grabbed her once broken wrist and gently tugged her along, loading up his other shoulder with her sopping bag. His scent hit her hard, overwhelmed her and she no longer resisted his tug and they ran side by side back tot he limousine. Clambering in though, there was no way Damian could have sat any farther away unless he was beside the driver. They drove in shivery silence for what felt like hours to Remmy as they headed back to the first place they ever met- his home.

A hot chocolate was prepared for her through an automatic dispenser and she sipped on it gently for the duration that dragged on. She half heartedly watched Damian, half intrigued by his appearance attracted to his square jaw and dark, unruly hair. His piercing eyes that focused outside on the passing trees outside of the windows. There was something even more alluring about him...behind that crass, bratty, self-entitled behavior. But what was more present was how uncomfortable she felt in her own skin. Inhaling deeply the scent of chocolate mix and the spicy conundrum of cologne and sweat from Damian, something made her smile and turn away as she felt warmth coming back to her shivery body.

"You never answered me." Remmy realized as she continued to stare out of the extravagant car, watching the city slip away, houses and land becoming less and less apparent.

"Hm?" he hardly acknowledged, his eyes racing back and forth and back and forth as he stared out the same tinted, rain covered windows.

"What do you want from me." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose once more. Damian looked towards her briefly, noting that her wrist was neither broken nor bruised. He'd confront her on this. Somehow, disarm her and get the answers. He felt guilty looking at her, even in those few moments, as a subject to study.

"To take you to lunch." He shrugged, looking away again. It wasn't entirely a lie. "We're nearly there. A guest room has been prepared for you and i'm sure we can find osmething suitable for you to wear in the meanwhile."

Weariness peaked in her body, but her brain raced regardless of the obvious exhaustion she's been putting herself through. And now losing a job, being in Damian's company wasn't ever calming and someone had broken into her home. She just wanted to run for a while, shift and glide through the luscious ground of Wayne Manor like she has for weeks after she'd be finished ridding the small streets near her of petty criminals. She flexed her fingers, imagining the cold wet earth oozing between her fingers and toes. Wind flying through her hair, sharp cold spikes of water gliding over her skin and the breezy world around her would assault her senses with scents of coming spring. And blood. And food. And that spice, that mixture of mint and something she couldn't name.

_Mmm, that smell, that touch, that skin to skin. _

"What?" she snapped out of it, cheeks quickly darkening to red as she felt convinced all of her blood pooled under her skin right there, alerting Damian to her wandering, frustrated mind.

"I said nothing," his inquisitive brow took in her entire startled and red face.

_Double shit._

"Oh, we're here?" She announced loud, not waiting for the door to be opened as the limo barely parked and she flew out into the rain. She walked briskly towards the doorway, not able to wait for Damian and large double doors swung open and Remmy looked up to see a reflection of Damian in his father. Than there was the gray sky and the rain pouring down onto her. Somewhere, someone yelled, but she couldn't even focus to care. The scary part was that burst of familiar warmth that burst from her head to her toes.


	5. Sick as your Secrets 5

_**Authors Note: Lots of swearing, fair warning. **_

"Are you all right?" Bruce asked his son as he entered Damian's room unannounced.

Damian didn't even bother to look at his father from his perch at the large french windows, the furthest wall from the door. Titus, though lowly whining by the fireplace, looked towards Bruce apprehensively. Bruce held out his hand for the dog to come and enjoy affection. Titus, still walking with his head low and tail tucked, went to the young Damian's father, leaning against his aging legs.

"He didn't mean to harm her," Bruce sighed, rubbing the giant dogs ears. "I think he was just excited to meet someone new."

"She's not new," Damian shook his head, forgetting himself momentarily.

"Remmy Murdock, correct?" Bruce asked simply, finally sitting with the dog.

"*tt*" Damian measured his father closely, anger and annoyance flitting through his veins. How could his father do this? He has a guest, mentioned a girl he ran into and this is what his father does? Goes and researches her? _Well, good luck. _His mental mantra was poisonous and he glowered towards dear old dad.

"She's the one that was lost on our property a month or so back, right?"

And Damian's teeth squeaked from the pressure of nearly grinding them.

"So maybe he was just excited to see an old friend," Bruce was talking at the dog, knowing that his son who faced the dark windows was listening intently. "She's all right, you know. A bruise and maybe a concussion. Alfred already took a xray and she's merely sleeping it off in the guest wing." Bruce finally looked to his son as the Great Dane slowly made his way to the younger Wayne.

"_Or_ you planned it and took her blood, created a file and are investigating her and used my moment of kindness as weakness." Damian spat, his words feeling as ludicrous as they sounded spitting from his lips.

Bruce was surprised, a rare feat and smiled knowingly. This only perpetuated his sons aggravation and Damian's moods were as well known as his wrath and as he played out into his teenage years they have become more erratic.

"Damian, be reasonable," Bruce's tone was soft, but his eyes were hard set to watch how his son would phase. "It wasn't hard finding out about a girl who you've watched for over a month, going so far to take a peak at the poor thing during the hours before dawn. She barely has a record, which I know you've glanced as well, especially for a girl who held three jobs in this city. Don't reprimand me because you feel guilty for following up on her."

Damian stared at his father, eyes narrowing so thin that you couldn't see the color inside of them.

"That's ridiculous that you'd even search her." he stood his ground.

"For me to do so? To see what in the world my son was researching? And finding it extremely hard to believe that it was over _just a girl_?" and as bitter as Damian's attitudes had become, Bruce's patience for the quips of angst, frustrated teen was thinning.

Before Damian could unleash another chaotic slur of insults, Bruce was heading to the door, adding, "She'll probably wake soon. I think it'd be best if you were there."

"Pennyworth will-"

"She is not Alfred's responsibility; you took her here and obviously felt that she was in enough danger to do so. Damian, who broke into her home?"

Stalled by the sternness of his fathers words, Damian stammered: "I- I don't know, Father."

"After she wakes and you make sure she's had something to eat, join me there or in the lab for clues...depending on how long you take." and the sudden strange cadence in his father's voice made him look away. He could tell what he was alluding to and didn't enjoy it. He didn't have time to become caught up with a girl..._Than why do I want to get to know her so badly? _

"She's nothing to me, father." Damian resolved, shoulders squared and forcing himself to make a calm and collected appearance in front of the formidable man behind the mask.

"That's fine. I'm proud of you for taking care of a citizen." Bruce walked out into the hallway.

"I think she might know about the dog fights...or whatever they are." Damian grimaced as he spoke.

"Is that why you've tracked her?" his father's voice carried from the hall.

"Yeah," he hardly acknowledged, slamming his hands into his pockets as he followed him out. "She's never home when the attacks happen."

Bruce eyed the back of his son's head as he walked grudgingly towards the infirmary.

Bruce sighed and felt slightly guilty at how relieved he was that he had in fact taken samples of Remmy's blood. It didn't bode well, this unfamiliar feeling that breached his mind. He was more worried as a father originally, not entirely knowing how to tackle the aspect of his son being interested in girls...or men...or anything other than breaking someones spine. Bruce rubbed his calloused fingertips over his forehead, he was used to the constant wax and wane of anxiety as a protector, as a silent guardian, but as a father? The past seven years of Damian being in his life have been beautifully brutal and filled with only scant, small, respectable ordeals of a healthy father-son relationship. Christ, Damian and Dick even got along well these days. But Damian's old ways were reflecting through his surging hormones and the inability for either of them to broach the often comical and uncomfortable topic of dating, sex or any of the in between was weighing heavy frustrations upon their relationship and Damian's day-to-day life.

What could a father even say to his son that was grown in a test tube and dropped into his life only after he turned ten? A little boy who had no real childhood- trained to be a death dealer in every sense of the horrible title. How could he tell a boy to ask a girl out at almost eighteen years old when they spoke about schematics, plans and vigilante justice? When the most they came to relax was snacking while watching the newest action movies or underground news reports? What could a dad say to his boy when the calmest moments they've shared were sleeping or playing fetch with a dog?

Bruce ran a hand through overgrown hair, his mind instantly going to Selina Kyle. Catwoman. A theif of so many expertise...the only woman he knew could ever keep up with him. He concluded he was no man, let alone father, to guide his young son into the throws of dating since his own personal affairs were chaotic and undefined. However, maybe putting a mole in Remmy's life? Maybe finding out what it was that drew Damian to this mysterious girl. Maybe find out what his son was up to. Bruce was on the phone plotting with the woman before he could really think it through.

* * *

"What are you doing to me?!" Remmy's screaching voice carried out as Damian opened the door of the guest room to find her holding her head harshly in her hands and only wearing a hospital gown Alfred must have changed her into. Damian blushed and looked down quickly to save some sense of modesty, but his eyes flew back to her half exposed body before he could think about it. Her body...even more of it was covered in circling, smoke like the black tattoos across her shoulders . They began again, giant swirling circles all across her backside, her thighs and they ended as shadowy as they began. They curved all over the natural bend of muscle and bone in her back and butt, perfectly displaying her figure as if they were meant to be there and not placed as an afterthought. They cupped her butt, circling each cheek and circling further onto her high hips, traveling down her thighs and vanishing as they blended back into her skin. Damian couldn't shake the thought of his curiosities, wanting to know if her lower stomach, her ribs and breast were just as covered. But was was striking against those huge lines of black ink were the sparkling, white scars that littered nearly every inch of her visable body. He had only ever seen her in professional or, what he thought was hip, clothing with layers and layers of long sleeves or leggings under high waisted skirts and flowy chiffon tops over tight plain shirts. All except that brief instance of her in the towel, in which he remembered so clearly and was burned by embarrassment each time he replayed it. He had caught only her tattooed shoulders, somehow he had missed the scars. But none of that was between them now and his shock was at how much this young girl, or, woman, endured. And though his pulse was throbbing in his veins heading south, his agitation and anxiety prompted his natural responses of defense and ridicule.

"What are you doing?" he barked, causing her to whirl on him, his eyes watching as the neck of the gown exposed her ink capped shoulder. The swirls looks so familar to him, so old that she couldn't possibly have ever seen art like this. It was perfectly similar to some of the oldest scrolls of histories on long forgotten or drowned islands that his mother and his trainers had years ago showed him. And a stab of anger, and somewhere hurt, flooded his system at the thought of Remmy being another assassin and spy his mother had sent for him.

"My. Fucking. Head." and she fell to her knees, gown falling off both shoulders and only covering her breasts as her arms were pulled tight to her self, her head still suck between her hands.

"Titus tackled you, you have a concussion. You need to calm down." and the rage was replaced with knowledge that any spy his mother would have sent would have never been able to show pain or discomfort. He hardly remember that he now could without her constant teaching. Damian reached out to her and was shocked that in one violent swoop Remmy knocked his hand back, the strength in her touch surprising him. He shouldn't be, hes followed her under the guise of Robin and has seen her do much worse with far less effort or need. She wasn't a spy, he could tell by the way she moved, but she was something. He had to figure it out. And now, before his father did.

"Don't come near me," and her voice was practically begging him, weakened and it called to a softer spot in his heart, often only attended to when Titus had prickers in his paws or his father was brutalized and he had to worry and watch over him. It was a sickening combination in his nervous system and he felt fully aware now, ready for her to fight or flee.

"What's wrong?" he stood, holding his hands palm up towards her, mimicking how his father would enter more dangerous situations with more unstable people. He needed her to know he wasn't a threat.

"Noo," and her voice growled, her eyes locking into his and they were red and gold, no longer a light emerald green.

"Wha-" and he was chasing after her out a broken window before he finished his sentence, before he could even think straight as he tore after the now naked girl he possibly rescued from a break in and just wanted to take her out to lunch, simply wanted to get to know her...know why her body was covered in scars and why he imagined counting every single one, tracing them with the tips of his fingers. He wanted to know why she seemed so different from everyone else. He wanted to know why he was chasing her all the time. He wanted to know if she was another mystery he would just pack up to Arkham and move on...and he wanted to know why that idea panicked him so deeply.

Damian was actually surprised, impressed even, by Remmy's speed and it took effort to keep up with her. She disappeared briefly through the woods, but broken branches and foot prints alerted him to her trail and he almost knew this crazy girl was just beyond his fingertips. And as his lungs ached, inhaling deeply, pumping his muscles full of oxygen that propelled him after her, Damian knew there was an unfamiliar sense of dread inside his body. It wasn't unfamiliar in the sense that had never felt it before, but this was different in the aspect that Remmy was still a stranger. Sure, he knew she was five feet, two inches, worked at a retail store and coffee shop down town (and previously the newspaper). She lived at 187 Chester Lane, apartment 32B on the lower east side. She had short black hair that he wasn't aware if it was natural or dyed, an extremely asymmetrical hair cut and a penchant for being out at ungodly hours every evening. She was strong, powerful actually, as she has saved herself a lot of grief and he's had to supply little intervention when she'd be bothered on the streets or the buses on those late evenings. He knew she had tattoos all over her body and he couldn't stop wanting to trace them and count her scars.

But this? This was a surprise and the darker things he had noticed were coming to light.

Her speed and strength were not natural. She could easily keep up with him and he was genetically perfected and trained since birth. She didn't have typical styles, he only knew this in the way she moved and the way he's seen her defend herself and attack thugs. She fought like her life depended on it; ruthless and unabashed. But her power for such a small girl was unnerving. It didn't sit right. And there were times he had made it to her window, the one the fire-escape was attached to, the single one in her single room apartment and he'd see gouges on the metal and window frame before. The gouges weren't from knives or weapons, but had a familiar organic look to them. The deep scars were caused by pressure and took the curved shape of heavy claws. He had see the similar design as he and his father had investigated the 'dog' attacks through out the city.

He didn't believe in werewolves, but that dread bloomed in his chest and leaked into his stomach as he started stumbling after Remmy, efforts doubled as he had to find this out. Tonight would be the night, no more running, no more chasing her or trying to fool her into answers- all his earlier attempts were weak and lame and if she couldn't handle the truth than he'll force her out of his city.

"Remmy!" he yelled out, flying through another set of pricker bushes and landing in a clearing in which the naked girl was curled up in the center, splashes of moonlight filtering through the sparse canopy.

"Remmy," he said her name again, softer as he approached her with one hand out, slow and gentle like approaching some scared animal.

"Don't, Damian, don't," and her voice was labored, body quivering as her head rested on her knees.

"It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm not worried about you," she glanced at him through the longer strands of hair, red eye blazing as bright as a fire opal.

Damian paused as he stared into the red and orange swirling iris, but didn't retreat.

"What are you?" he sat back on his feet, looking perfectly calm as he watched her trembling body. He inhaled deeply before shutting his eyes, removing his long sleeve shirt to hand to her. "Are you the werewolf?"

Remmy groaned, though looking towards Damian's naked chest, finding the muscles sculpted and beautiful, so healthy and strong, she shook her head closing her eyes as she had started looking at the beginning of chest hair, eyes following the trail down his abdomen. Damian paused, not bothering to put it back on though he shivered gently from the only early spring weather.

"_I am not a werewolf_." her words were labored and through clenched teeth.

"What are you?"

"Please don't," she begged, turning both eyes towards him. His blue ones slowly switched between them. One was burning red, fiery and clear- the other was a golden color, thick and shimmery like honey.

"What are you." his voice was cold, demanding, needing- he had to make sure she wasn't a threat.

"Demon!" she spat, turning away and burrying her face into her knees again as her body quaked with pain he couldn't understand.

"What is wrong with you." he demanded again.

What harm could this young millionaire really do to her? If he spilled the beans to the tabloids? _oh freakin' well_, he'd look like a lunatic. It wasn't like she had much to save face in this city now anyway. She could answer him, could make him let her go, scare the shit out this unshakable boy and take off. That's all she needed to do- keep running.

"My body needs to shapeshift to accelerate healing."

"Not because it's a full moon?" he scooted closer, watching the goosebumps rise across her arms, up her shoulders and across her back.

"No," she growled, her eyes screwed tight as the need was painful inside of her to shift and save herself.

"Than why are you struggling?"

"Because I'm in pain! Because I'm exhausted! Because other forms feel more natural than this one!" she screamed, sitting up and facing him, her lithe body exposed and he couldn't help but look at her jutting collarbones and small, young breast and her flat stomach. He was right, everything across her lower stomach and below was tattooed...and scarred, too.

"Than shape shift." his eyes wandered lazily back to her face, noticing the sweat across his brow and the blood flow that had turned south in his system. A demon was in front of him. A beautiful, scarred, tattooed, interesting and mysterious naked demon was in front of him. And he wanted to watch her shift, see her body transform in front of him. He felt a strange need, a suddenness that made his head feel slightly dizzy and his pants tighter as they kept eye contact- his shocking blue ones to her changeling dual tones of bloody red and clear yellow.

Her labored breathing parted her pale lips and tightness became uncomfortable inside his pants, but he wouldn't shift, feared moving for exposing himself or scaring her off. He couldn't tell what would be more embarrassing. And in the pale moonlight he saw her nudity shift; pale silver fur rippled across her face, her shoulders and her stomach- spreading to every inch of her body. Her hands, feet and spine grew in length as they transformed to a slightly less behometh than she had been switching into the past few weeks. Her body remained mostly human, though anthropormophic as her female features blended with what looked like a wolf, her ears perching outwards and slightly higher as they mixed shapes between human and animal. Her features elongated, teeth growing with them as her eyes grew, shifting to a slant. She fell to her knees, quivering and groaning in a sound that mixed pain and pleasure. She refused to look away from him and like a victim he couldn't lose her cobra stare. His eyes widened, the pupils growing so large they hid the blue of his iris. She drew closer as she yelled out, a sound so mixed of pain and pleasure Damian could almost feel his own throat moan out something similar. Her spine grew, sprouting tails, sinews and bone cracking so loudly in front of him, his heart racing even harder as he watched her agony flicker through her eyes, the same eyes searching his, the same eyes following down to his naked chest. And as quickly and violently as it began, there a strange she-wolf with countless tails sat on her extended, monstrous feet opposite of him. Her silver body was flecked with the same scars, though the tattoos were now hidden under the soft down her body had taken on.

"Holy shit," Damian couldn't stop the smile that sprang across his lips or the shiver that ran through his body, overwhelmed by seeing an actual transformation- an organic shapeshifter. A demon; a legend sat in front of him. The same legend that was brutalizing the city. And his calculated cold exterior was only followed by the natural returned blood flow of his system, still slightly raised by the cold and excitement.

"*Tt*", Remmy, or this figure that was Remmy, replied, a strange smile crossing her newly morphed face.

And though somehow a flicker of a grin touched the corner of his lips again, Damian's mind was racing as fast and hard as he could calculate. His father would find out about this. Batman would know that there really was a werewolf- or demon- or whatever in the city. Bruce would find out that his son was attracted to this shapeshifter. And it made the boy panic, dread replacing his excitement even heavier in his chest.

"I have to hide you," the words were out of his mouth and he was already chastising himself,thinking it would have been limitlessly better if he had correctly stated: 'you need to leave' instead. But that's not what he said nor what he wanted to say.

"No," and her voice was thick, full of an accent he didn't recognize.

"What?" and he couldn't help but smile again at her bold ridiculousness.

"No hiding," and that voice was gravelly in her new form, loaded with a foreign tint that he couldn't place, something he's never heard before. How impossible. She couldn't help herself, this free form, this sick secret shared upon someone elses shoulders. If she was going to flee and start all over again, she wanted to make tonight fun. She wanted to let her hair down, her demonic form show, and share this with this impossibly attractive, attentive young man named Damian Wayne. The longing in her chest started to ease and she felt her natural tension relax because she wasn't lying anymore, wasn't hidden behind a mask.

"But you've been attacking people; it's on the news." He tried to reason, unonciously inching closer to her.

"Tabloids." and that tinted voice rattled in his brain, making a heavy sigh escape him. He adored it, wanted to hear it again. As bizzare as this exchange was, he was finally getting what he wanted- answers and the chance to meet her.

"No, cops too. Reports are coming in. Witnesses, they've seen you, Remmy. You're not safe. Maybe that's why your place was wrecked."

She shrugged, dual toned eyes fixating on him, squinting just slightly as her head cocked to the left.

"You're not safe." he said, quieter now, kicking himself because he didn't want to sound pleading. This was urgent as he placed the pieces together. She really wasn't safe here.

"It happens," she finally answered and his chest quivered at the sound, "I haven't killed anyone. And, trust me," her tone dropped, almost growling as she added, "It's not someone I've attacked here that was at my home." She stood suddenly, extending her hand down at him. Damian, stunned, stared up at her body, trailing scars he could see through the flush silver from the tops of her feet as they circled around her calves and over her knees, snaking around and around her thighs as they would have met where he no longer could see her tattoos and higher, across her firm stomach, through her navel and up her ribs, across her breast and they stopped just short of her nape. He found himself, strong arm taking in her padded, clawed hand and examining it intently. She smiled at him, taller now that her feet were extended and bent backwards at the ankle. She was just about eye level to him as he realized she said she was a shape shifter, this probably not being her original state.

"Why this shape," he asked, keeping eye contact.

"You're human, it's easier when you interact with something that resembles you. You know," she gestured to her body, "Bipedal, womanly curves, a voice and face you sort of recognize." and her accent made the hair on the back of his neck rise in anticipation.

"*tt*" was his only response, annoyed at the aspect of her not thinking he could handle any other more demonic figures. She had no idea the world he knew and the underbelly he has seen and suffered through. But his fingers crossed over her scarred knuckles, looking up her arm at the endless trails of ivory white and pink that had separated and healed her story in her skin countless times. He had no idea of hers either.

She withdrew her hand from him, standing slightly taller than a moment ago, the faint smile fell away from her extended mouth, closing over sharpened teeth. And though the thrilling nature of transforming had consumed her, his ability to accept the impossible had excited her more. Now, though, as she looked upon his shirtless physique she couldn't help, but fear why he was not afraid of her. What in the world did he really know if he had watched her painfully brutal, bloody ordeal of her body shifting and growing into another creature and hadn't flinched. She had dreamt of such occurrences in her wildest of fantasies, but never believed the possibility. And Damian Wayne was too cunning and crass to really be okay with seeing a demon change shape in front of him. Was he was aware of her this entire time? Had he been set up to follow her? To pretend to get to know her? To attempt and extract her from Gotham? was that this whole plan, finding a false sense of security as he tried to rescue her from some big bad wolf that had ruined her hole in the wall apartment? Her heart thumped hard in her chest as she stepped back from him, all silver and white tails rising behind her.

_Shit._

"No," Damian saw it in her eyes before she fled and yelled out after her, trying in vain to grasp her wrists once more. He cursed her as she vanished, angry and stunned as he took off after her again. Screaming, "Remmy, stop! Come back! I need to help you!" he yelled angrily after the girl, the demon, whatever she was.

"What for?" her disembodied voice echoed around him, making him slide to a stop in the damp leaves and mud. He slowly started to circle, listening for her anywhere near him.

"Because- because I can!" he fumbled, ears straining to hear past his racing heart that pounded in his ears so heavily he could feel it reflected in the veins of his throat.

"I don't need your help," and the voice echoed around him, making him circle again, searching for it's origin.

"Trust me, you do." he sighed, calming himself as he focused for that distinct accent, knowing he had to catch her truly like a frightened animal this time. She'd see, he would make her see, make her listen, make her talk, make her come back home with him, make her explain everything so that he could concoct some manner in which to keep her in Gotham longer before his father could find out. He could find the people who saw her or the people that broke into her home and make it safe again. He could hide under the guise of Robin and make her feel safe, stay connected with her after she tried to hide from Damian again.

"*Tt*" echoed around him, making him bristle angrily in silence.  
"Batman knows about you, Robin too." he decided to threaten her, "They'll run you out of town. They called off the cops so they could handle you."

"So what?" she was peering at him from directly above, Damian calmly turning to look up at her. He finally had regained the upper hand.

"So what?" he chided, "Do you know nothing about this city? Batman will run you out of town, or worse, turn you over to the Justice League." he laughed, scoffing at her demonic nature and it burned inside of her. This, now this is what she had expected. It caught her off guard now, finding the excitement and wonder in Damian's eyes so pure, so child-like, so wanted from every aspect of her. And instead he was spitting it in her face as if she was diseased and vulnerable. He'd turn her in, even if he sounded like a madman to the city, she knew she'd be in for trouble if Batman and Robin had come knocking down her door. Her right wrist ached with a phantom pain as she drew closer to Damian now.

"What could they possibly do?" she sighed, voice so heavy with sorrow Damian didn't know if he truly heard her.

"What?"

"What could they possibly do to me, Damian?" she was so softly switching from branch to branch, slowly drawing closer and closer to the boy. "What in the world would I be doing here, hmm? Why did I think you'd be any different?" she was bitter now, jaded at the turn for worse this night had gone. And to think, all along this boy just wanted to take her to lunch. "Even if they run me out of Gotham, it won't change. I'll move somewhere else, accomplish the same things, attack the same sort of people and get chased out again. Why do you think tabloids always have stories? Why do you think werewolves and vampires are some of the oldest monsters in this world? I'll keep running." she was only a few feet above him, hunched over the branch and staring sadly down, tails curling around her body.

"What are you running from?"

She sighed, perched above him and staring down with a tilted head, somehow he was able to recognize the pained expression on her animalistic face. It was heavy set in her eyes.

"Everything," her voice cooed in that accent, drawing him closer.

"Who?" he asked again, standing at the base of the tree before he realized it, putting a hand on the trunk.

"Myself," she laughed, painfully cold. He shuddered at the sudden cruel voice he had never experienced before.

"Why?" two hands were on the trunk.

"Because it's so much easier than to live the way I had learned. So much easier than killing my own kind, so much easier than realizing that life would never end. So much easier than everything I was raised to think and expect."

"Which is?" he made it to the first branch.

"Kill or be killed. Rule with an iron fist. Forgive no one, expect the worst, expect everything." She watched him pull himself silently up another branch. "Be ruthless, be merciless, be cruel."

And he kept climbing, feeling like his own dark heart was being spoken through her, his own troubles, his own angst he had to face so young reported back to him. Death, destruction, decay- everything he had grown up with, everything he had expected once upon a time and here she was, running away from that hard fought battle he suffered under. And in combination resentment and compassion, Damian pulled himself up to her branch, sitting next to her, so close their sides touched. He couldn't tell if it was the excitement that burned his side or if her skin was truly so warm against his naked one.

"Where?" he continued as they both stared out into the night sky, overlooking Gotham, the mansion to their back.

"An island far from here in a world all but forgotten," and the accent only added to the sorrow and hate in her tone, something he heard reflected in his own almost constantly.

"You ruled?" he continued.

"Meant to," and her tone felt like ice in his veins. He didn't push it further, but pulled his arm around her waist, evaporating the gap between them. She didn't flinch, didn't even react as they pulled closer. She inhaled deeply, a soft purr of a moan echoing in her throat as she found that smell; clean, mint and something else, something she had yet to name.

"I'm sorry," he sighed and as she opened her mouth to respond, Remmy's body was going weak, everything blurring and for the second time that evening she hit a familiar warmth and darkness spread through out her consciousness.

Though not proud, Damian removed the sleep serum tipped batarang from her neck and bundled her in his shirt before taking her in his arms and leaping from the tree branches. He had to figure her out and was obligated by his conscious and as his sworn duty to his father, this city, as Robin, to make sure that any werewolf, or demon, or Remmy Murdock was whatever she said she was. He felt disturbingly guilty from his tactics, annoyed at how similar he had felt to her. He got answers, he just needed more. And somewhere he felt like he had betrayed her and somewhere deeper, somewhere he would deny even existed, he hoped she could forgive him.


	6. Sick as your Secrets 6

Damian had moved her body to an exam table within the cave; Remmy's body sat clothed now, no more I.V.'s or tubes in her, no more tests. She was simply sedated by a vapor released through the enclosed stasis chamber. He had been there, pouring over the giant computer for hours. He had meant to leave once, twice before and join his father in patrolling the night, ending at the crime scene that was still Remmy's apartment. He had lost himself in his work, examining the x-rays, the blood samples, transfixed by the results. He felt like a mad scientist, a genius, someone in a horror movie as he tried to debunk all the things he found. Her blood had chemical compounds he knew were familiar, but had to keep digging in the database to uncover. The temperature of her body, her blood even after leaving the body, was degrees hotter than a normal human. Her natural heart rate was nearly double anyones resting one, constantly racing, constantly thrumming in her chest. He wondered how fast it would beat when she was running, or how she'd feel beneath him, how warm the rest of her body would be if they were side by side again.

And Damian gritted his teeth at his sexual thoughts, shifting uncomfortably in the large chair that was made for his father. He couldn't deny his wandering thoughts as he replayed her transformation over and over in his minds eye. He couldn't help but see all her blazing scars over her naked body just as clearly, just as importantly. He cleared his throat and doubled his efforts, scanning over her xrays again, noticing how dense her bone mass was. He had taken notes in a journal on top of copying everything to a flash drive, realizing now he had been doodling off to the side. It was her face, smiling and human, but had those monster eyes. He had drawn out her extended ears in another margin, her extended and wolf like feet on another. And finally, he placed the pen down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he found no new answers. He sat there, pushing against his eyes so harshly that the back of them lit up like Gotham's cityscape in moments. Bursting with colors and a divine pressure as he resolved he really knew nothing new. She was a supernatural being, something though not improbably in Gotham, he knew that there were other alliances that were much better equip to handle the query.

He swiveled the chair to see her glass coffin-looking holding cell, hoping that he was up to the challenge of her wrath. And with the shut down of the main computer and packing up the drive and journal Damian went to unlock Remmy from her forced sleep.

Titus's barking grabbed his attention before the roaring engine of the batmobile barreling unceremoniously into the cave. The tires or rims or something was off, sending the giant vehicle wobbling to its platform and a shivering stop.

This wasn't right; something wasn't right.

Titus went running towards the car, crying loudly as he made it to the platform. Damian leaped from the pathway that was towards Remmy, ignoring Alfred's calls asking him what was wrong.

He had no idea.

He remembered only half of his suit was on, the mask and communicator had been left on the small desk space before the giant computer. Wouldn't his father have taken control of the giant screen that was in front of him for- he glanced towards his watch- four hours. He startled at the number, his attention reignited towards the batmobile as the top slid open, revealing a bloodied and screaming Catwoman.

"Father," his voice hung in a whisper as he launched towards the hysterical and bleeding thief, shocked at her uncharacteristic panic.

Parts of her cat suit were ripped away, stunning Damian and making fear rise like bile into his throat. He knew his father had, had another one designed for her, one updated and more protective. Than he realized she was screaming at him to help her, pulling his father from the vehicle, he too bloodied, parts of his armor ripped away and his body swollen and bruised, seeping everywhere. They were leaving dark blood stains all over the car and each other as she and Damian dragged the Batman from the seats. Damian screamed out for Alfred and all three assisted a ragged, half conscious Batman to an emergency infirmary bed within the cave.

"What happened!?"

"Help him!"

"You need to calm down, I need to help you too."

"Get off of me and help him, damn it!"

"Calm down!" and the chaotic yelling from the trio was hardly disrupted by the Batman falling fully into unconsciousness.

Damian shoved the bloodied Catwoman aside, helping Alfred remove his fathers often impenetrable armor.

"I swear if I find out this is your fault," Damian glared up from his work to find the shattered face of Selina Kyle as she finally removed her ruined cowl and goggles.

"If it wasn't for me he'd be dead!" she shouted back, biting back unshed tears at the mere thought and vivid memory of the attack.

"Help her," Damian conceded, pushing Alfred's hands away so that Miss Kyle wouldn't collapse on them as well.

Selina practically collapsed on the nearest gurney, making short work of her ruined catsuit, the strips of combat grade fabric falling away from her, pulling with it patches of dried blood. Alfred hooked her up to IV fluids and pain relief as he gathered bandaging and suture material for her and Master Wayne.

Damian started clearing the debris and dirt from his father's body. He swabbed the wounds for evidence before cleaning them. Even in an unconcious state his father's body twinged from the pain. The wounds looked angry, deep gouges that were made from the sharpest materials possible. Damian found bones exposed and finally, as he wiped away oozing plasma and blood, he found that the marks were large bite and claw marks. He inhaled sharply, incapable of stopping himself from glancing to Remmy's body that was still slowly shuddering awake from the sedative. An insurmountable guilt flooded Damian's system and an anger towards the girl, but more himself, set the quick pace for him to clean and care for his fathers wounds.

"What happened?" He breathed, starting to stitch up a particularly large wound that traveled from Bruce's right collarbone to the bottom of his left pectoral muscle. A good part of the collarbone was exposed and Damian had to glue pieces of his skin together instead of stitching it as he continued the down the large slash wound.

"He had me meet him in an apartment down by the east side," Selina's voice was wavering from the large amount of pain killers Alfred had dumped into her system. She wouldn't have stopped bleeding if he hadn't. Damian knew it was Remmy's place.

"I was casing it while I waited," she stopped to hiss in pain as Alfred went about cleaning a deep gash in her side, the bite marks unmistakable. "gathering finger prints to make less time of it, he said you were busy and I was in the area," she sputtered out a crying sentence of curses as she clenched her fists and apologized to Alfred.

"There's a chemical agent working on these wounds," he finally surmised, realizing why the wounds were so agitated, swollen and red. He feared it was viral or bacterial based, easily transferable if these were in fact animal bites. "Something in the saliva." He caught Damian's eyes, knowing that stare was a secret message.

"Can't you just give me some more drugs, doc?" Selina laughed weakly up at Alfred as her vision swam.

Damian had finished stitching up his father and sauntered uneasily over to the glass encasements he had placed Remmy in. He was desperate and would beg his fathers forgiveness later on- it was too late to hide where they were and who he was.

"Alfred I need you to call Richard." he spoke, watching Remmy's face and stalled by the cold red and gold eyes he found staring back at him. Her face was calm, neutral even as she watched him through the glass. Damian gulped loudly, "As soon as possible." he double checked the flash drive in his pocket before punching in the code to open the chamber and release Remmy from within.

He shouldn't have been surprised when her hand was around his throat, her small body slamming him to the ground in one movement. His gargling breath and angry gaze met hers, her shoulders held high, breath coming suddenly labored as she spat: "Give me one good reason not to beat the living spit out of you and leave you for your dear old dad to find!" her voice carried the faintest of memories of her accent, words trembling with anger.

"I"ll give you two," Alfred spoke loudly, somewhat out of turn for he no longer held a sense of calm. In that distracted second Damian was out from under her, pulling her to her feet beside him.

"Please, I'll explain everything later," he coughed, rubbing his bruised neck, her long fingers printed across them. "But I think I need your help." he tugged her stunned body over to the two wounded and unconscious adults who were stripped down showing nothing but bite and claw marks that were deep, swollen and turning purple or a bright red. Remmy glanced over the broken Bruce Wayne, not knowing the name of his companion, but remembering photos of the two having been over tabloids everywhere.

"Who?" she spoke though knew her answer.

"They went back to your place,"

_Shit._

"Were...they bitten?" she again already knew the answer, watching as Bruce and Selina's breathing picked up, sweat pricking across their bodies as their temperatures rose.

Both Alfred and Damian looked to her in fear.

"Yes." Alfred was the first to answer, finishing the last bandage on Selina.

_Double shit._


	7. Sick as your Secrets 7

**_AN: Just wanted to say thank you to the few followers and reviews, I'm floored by how many visits/views my story has generated. Thank you, everyone! It means a lot to me :3_**

"Did they say by who?" Remmy went to check Selina's pulse, knowing she asked 'who' and not 'what'.

Damian only shook his head, wary setting shadows deep under his eyes, making the eighteen year old look far more aged. He watched her intently, squinting in question as Remmy's eyes shut for what felt like minutes, hours, days- he simply couldn't bare it.

"What?" his tone was flat, incapable of accepting his most feared idea, Alfred only two feet away hanging in the same balance.

"What do you have here?"

"What do you mean?"

"For supplies," she finally opened her eyes, they had returned to their emerald green. "We need to start a blood transfusion." Damian started and Alfred looked more confused than appalled.

"If I knew who had bitten them this would be easier, but because I don't, we need to take as much of their blood out and give them mine. They won't survive the fever otherwise." she looked to Damian with sad, almost apologetic eyes.

"So you are a werewolf." he grimmaced at his own voice of disgust.

"No," she turned from him, the hurt unmistakable in her eyes, "No, Damian," she sighed rolling up her sleeves as Alfred had already started prepping both Selina, Bruce and the multiple bags of blood he was about to take from her. "I am a demon, that much I can promise you," she shook her head again, smiling and it didn't sit well on her face- it was pathetic, sad and weak as she looked back to the boy again, faded green eyes gleaming in the dimly lit cave. "I am a demon, Damian, not an infection. I am a specie, a creature, something...different. I'll explain everything after." she shrugged, never looking away.

"If you survive." Alfred wasn't about to let that information become lost on Damian.

"What?"

"They need a transfusion, she's one person Damian."

He balked, looking to her in a surprised expression that he knew would disguse his hurt.

"Damian, my natural temperature runs around 112 degrees...that's a resting rate for me. Their brains will fry if they're not supplied some sort of demonic interference."

"It's a demon that did this to them." Alfred added in coldly again.

"It was meant for me." she apologized to the butler. "But if you don't start draining them or me they'll be dead sooner than you can be any worse displeased by me and my kind."

Damian somehow methodically assisted Alfred, feeling as if he was watching someone else stick a needle into Remmy's arm and another into his fathers. The infected blood ran from Selina and Bruce, collected into bags and vials, as much as they could hold and tamper with and manipulate later on. Damian watched their blood _drip, drip, drip,_ into the clear containers. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as the vision of only earlier this evening, or yesterday as it was the earliest hours before dawn once more, flashed into his mind. It was simply of Remmy before any of his suspicions were answered, before anymore unanswerable questions had risen, it was when he simply wanted to take her out to lunch and instead chased her into the raining afternoon of Gotham City, he had paused to watch the weather soak her and she had sworn up to the heavens with a defeated, at ease smile. He wanted to see that again. He didn't want her to die. He wanted answers. He wanted to see her skin again- he wanted to count the scars.

Richard had watched from the entrance above them, not entirely sure if he should descend as he was without his costume. But Dick's heart raced as he knew that Bruce's body was literally being drained. His rage for the demon that sat between Selina and Bruce's body was palpable, thick like ashes in his mouth as he stormed down the spiraling stairs. He took them two, three at a time as his rage intensified only as the girl made eye contact with him. He was shot down his intrigue and was appalled at the sudden red and yellow colors looking back to his dark blue ones.

"Start talking," he growled, catching Damian's attention and instantly frazzling the already frustrated boy.

"She can't," he growled, releasing the tourniquets on her arms, letting her blood flow into both Selina and Bruce, Alfred bandaging their exit wounds for the procedure.

"I can." she met Dick Grayson's heavy and angry eyes with clear and sorrowful ones. This was her fault, she knew and Dick glared at her as thoroughly and hatefully as any friend of the Batman should. This was her careless, childish mistake that had put this family in danger.

Richard glared evenly at Damian, ready for a screaming, scratching, seething quarrel to erupt. He was more stunned and almost agitated that the younger brother didn't feed into the fury and need to fight him. Dick went and turned on all scanning and recording devices within the cave, finding that they need to analyze everything about this girl. He was surprised to find Damian's file on her well written already.

"I am a demon, one of the oldest kind," she flexed her fingers, watching her thick blood sluggishly plunged through the tubes, being sucked into bags and laced into Bruce and Selina. "I don't even know how old we are, we predate human sacrifice, we predate Egypt's pyramids-"

"We get it, you're old." Dick spat, rushing her along.

"As a demon we are far different than humans. We can assume or shift shapes because we can adapt- we are predators. Human and canines are easiest to transition between, always have been. I have no idea why," she shrugged, arms twitching from the twinge it created in the curve of her arms. "We have parasitic saliva and blood, they are alkaline compared to even hazardous chemicals your skin would melt away from. We can transition from ailments by shapeshifting."

"How is your blood saving them?" Alfred quietly looked to her, halting Dick's rushed words and Damian's bitten insults.

"My blood will alter theres, similar, I guess, in the easiest way to explain is that they'll acquire some of my attributes. My blood will heal their wounds and nullify the acid in the spit, it will burn off the infection. They'll be stronger, more aware of not only their surroundings, but by reading people and even the weather- everything around them. They will not shape shift, but their muscles will surge from the blood, their wounds both new and old helped and renewed from it. It will give them a few days of peace and recovery and it will filter out as their own bodies recover from the transfusion. They'll become hot, but not in danger of a fever. I'd say they'll run around 103 or 4, their resting rates will be elevated. They'll be fine." she sighed, vision become hazy as she lost count of the bags of blood as the line was disconnected from one of her arms.

"that makes no sense!" Dick growled, slamming a fist on the keyboard of the great computer.

And, shocking everyone, Remmy laughed, the giggle turning into a controlled mirth and by the time Alfred removed the second pike from her arm, she was crying from laughing so painfully hard.

"I'm a fucking demon." she spat finally, her body feeling drunk and wavering. She looked to Damian, her eyes swirling the darkest he had ever seen and leaned out to grasp his arms as he was preparing to catch her fall from the chair.

"She's right, Master Richard." Though disbelief rang in Alfred's words as he watched the monitors, slowly becoming absolutely engrossed in the fact that the stitched wounds were healing right before his eyes. The saliva was pushed out like venom and he quickly grabbed the suture scissors to remove the unnecessary threading holding the absolutely healed skin together. The pink turned to white and turned back to a correct color as it so quickly healed as if they had never been scratched, never been bitten and bruised and broken. "She's right." the butlers whole rigid body sagged in relief, hooking up another bag of the hot demonic blood to enter into their bodies. "She's right." and he brushed back unshed tears of relief and happiness, glancing at their temperatures that ranged around the hundreds, their heart rates in fact higher than he expected, their lung pumping in smooth, even rhythms.

"I'm a fucking demon," she giggled again, staring up into Damian's enlarged eyes. She reached up her hand, resting it aside his cheek, enjoying the stubble beginning to grow back on the young mans face and a coo made his gaze soften upon her. Without another word, he gathered her in his arms again and walked passed both Alfred and Dick, not acknowledging their questions and remarks as he brought her back into the mansion, brought her to his wing, to his corridor, finally to his bedroom. He took off her shoes, eased her weak body out of a sweatshirt he had managed to first put her into. He watched her lazily watch him as he went to unbutton her pants, trying to make her comfortable, but her freezing hand over his stopped him, her gasp making him stare long and hard at her slightly exposed hips. Those scars and tattoos, he wanted to touch them, trace them with his fingers, rub them with his hands, taste them with his tongue.

"I wasn't doing anything, just trying to help you get comfortable."

"I know," she breathed and he knew she didn't doubt him, "I'm freezing, Damian. Thank you, though." and her eyes seemed drunk and sick, not just tired. Before he could second guess himself, before he realized what he was doing, he crawled into bed with her, slipping behind her body and wrapping himself around her. Damian spooned her, his face buried into the back of her neck as she tensed in his arms, stuffing all the down blankets and soft throws on top of them. They were suddenly trapped beneath all the blankets like a child's fortress hiding from the dark, all hot breath and tangled legs. Damian's grasp wrapped around her ribs, pulling her even tighter to his chest.

"Thank you," he exhaled, her shudder in response making all his blood race below his navel and his pants were tightening against her backside with an alarming speed.

"Hmm?" she was weak, exhausted in so many ways, but she was suddenly so safe and comfortable in this strange boys arms, under his blankets in their makeshift fort, their hiding place from how fucked up the world had become in such a short time.

"For saving them,"

"It's my fault," and the sadness in her voice shocked him, clenched his heart so tight he felt like he couldn't breathe. That sound agonized him.

"Shut up," he growled, hand flying up to her face, gripping her chin with more force than he needed and she turned into it, his lips crushing into hers. She moaned, turning into his arms, his erection burying into her stomach through the starch denim. "Shut up," he whispered again before plunging deeper into the kiss, shivering as her tongue forced its dominance into his mouth. He was at a loss, trying desperately to learn fast and keep up with her, fighting her tongue back into her mouth, his body rising, rolling them gently as she was on her back. "Shut up," he cooed into her, staring down at her eyes, finding the soft orange and red in her left eye, back to the gold, honey-brown of her right one. He kissed her softly, once, twice, three times across her lips before laying his head down across her chest, nestling into the crook of her neck. Even for her fast heart rate, he smiled as he heard it pounding in her ribs, her lungs shivery with each breath. He closed his eyes, enthralled by that sound as one of his hands snaked around to hold hers. She was all sensation, all fumbling, blurry sensation as she smiled, passing out from exhaustion and near close to blood loss as Damian fell asleep in her arms.


	8. Sick as your Secrets 8

_**AN: **_

_**RATED M FOR MATURE**_

_**RATED M FOR MATURE**_

_**RATED M FOR MATURE**_

_In case you didn't notice, this one gets mature for including sexual situations and language. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this. _

* * *

"Can you believe this, Alfred?" Richard was watching the Butler tuck both his adopted father and his- well, whatever Selina was to him,- into a California king size bed, still hooked up to monitors and videos to keep an eye on them. The blood had been transferred, letting their bodies ride out this infection.

"I have to, Master Richard." the tired Butler looked back towards the young adopted Wayne, the butlers eyes so shining and clear that they stood so stark against his weathered face it alone supported every sense of his statement.

"I can't figure it out, the lab trials make no sense."

"Master, Richard, it's nearly one in the afternoon. The results are as clear as day, even if they don't work on your computer. Go rest." he finished setting the sleeping adults and their monitors and ushered young Dick Grayson out of his fathers room.

"But-"

"Rest, master Richard." Alfred turned the young man around, facing him towards his old room. "Please."

"Hmmph," Dick complied, walking down the hall.

* * *

They had both rested for hours, tangled in the warmth of each others touch, waking only for moments at a time, making sure the other was still there. They only clung tighter, entangled themselves further, buried deeper into the blankets, squirming and kissing so gently to the center of the bed. They both had jeans on, Damian's shirt had been pulled off by himself in his sleep; he had no complaints. Damian's hand was tracing over Remmy's lower back, her skin only starting to warm now. Their breath was humid beneath the blankets, their eyes sleepy and bodies sore as they nuzzled each other in silence again. They had finally been able to rest, the warm color coming through the blankets warning them that the day was escaping them. Damian pulled his hand across her stomach, suddenly braving his shaking motions and his racing mind to glide his finger tips across her stomach, skimming under her navel, back around and over it and pushing up her side again. She shivered, his hands feeling strangely warm against her skin as her temperature had dropped to an average humans, which to Remmy it felt bitter and cold.

Goosebumps raised across her body and she pushed into his touch. Damian smiled, a small smug laugh escaping his lips as they were suddenly awake, watching Remmy's face as he ran his calloused fingers across her stomach again, fingers interuptted by the rise and fall of her twisted skin, the tattoos and scars mingling with the untouched parts. And his heart thumped heavier, unbuttoned pants so obviously showing why, his mind went back to her untouched parts. Remmy's own heart, which had felt so slow all night, picked up as she felt his stiffness growing in his pants at her thigh. She smiled, slow and exhausted still, as she looked down to his tightening underwear and was delightlfully surprised as Damian's hand slowly traveled up her tank top and, with one last stalling second, cupped her breast. His erection was firm against her and his whole body went rigid as his warm hand cupped her breast before slowly, unsure of his actions, his thumb brushed across her nipple and a small sigh escaped her throat, her body instantly arching further into his touch, driving him on.

Damian, awash with relief at his success and a burning deep in his core, he nearly growled with pleasure as he made short work of pulling Remmy's top off, carefully, gently rolling her onto her back and lay over her once more, taking in the appearance of her nude breasts. Her tattoos and scars started at the nape of her neck, coiling around her collarbones and tops of her shoulders, coiling across her chest and each breast all the way to her nipples. They were a stark contrast to the jagged, missmanaged scars that were torn out of her body in chunks, thin jagged lines and paper thin strings that came across her chest in such repitition, Damian couldn't even imagine the extent of damage she had physically seen. His hands traveled from the nipple of each breast, curling outwards, following the smokey tattoos, stopping at her neck, retracing and finding his way back to her nipples and tortrously, slowly repeating each step.

Remmy's breathing had picked up, her heart beginning to thrum in her chest and her natural temperature picking back up. She gasped, loud and shuddering as he took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and pulling gently as his other hand pinched and rubbed her other one.

"Damian," her voice was quiet and a higher pitch than he was used to, but her accent had shared itself with him and he groaned, feeling that his eyes could roll into his head and his insides explode in his pants at the mention of his name. That look of want that burned from her demonic eyes, he could feel it reflected in his own, feeling the tip of his length watery with anticipation. "Please," and that could have been his undoing as he climbed up to meet her face with lips so needy, biting at hers in desire, so intense that he wouldn't have cared to break teeth or draw blood, he suddenly couldn't figure out why he oculdn't get close enough, or fast enough and sloppily shared his desires that had reflected in her plead.

"Damian?"

"Yes," he growled into her lips, grinding his hips to hers, unsure to take this any further, but he could feel the heat off of her body in between his boxers and her pants.

"Damian?!" And his head shot up through the covers of blankets to glare daggers at Dick Grayson who was in his room. Grayson was staring at the fact his younger brother was getting action from the feared, distrusted and quite disliked demon they had as a house guest. "What the fuck-"

"Out! Out! **OUT!**" Damian screamed, reaching over Remmy to cover her body, grabbing an old glass and pewter lamp throwing it hard at Dick's head.

"What's going on in here?" Alfred's yell was shrill and angered as he heard the glass shatter and Damian and Dick bellowing the nastiest cuss words directly at each other in the fastest exchange to date. Alfred barged in on Damian struggling into jeans, covering a substanial bulge in his boxers, eyes flashing to the girl in his bed that was blushing the color of red wine, the brothers screaming at each other about this poor girl.

"You're-you're sleeping with her?!" Dick was so shocked and so embarrassed he couldn't even stop himself from making the situation worse.

"Stop speaking you idiotic prick!"

"Prick?! Prick?! that's what you're going to call me when you're trying to stick a _demon_? Some twisted fucking half breed?"

"_I will break your face!" _Damian screamed, heated body covered in cold sweat as he met his brother eye to eye at the door frame.

"You're a virgin! Do you even have condoms?! Do you-do you even-?"

"Enough!" Alfred bellowed, grabbing Dick by his ear and dragging him out of young Damian's room, slamming the door for them. "Damian, Remmy," he called through the closed door, "Breakfast- er, lunch- will be ready within twenty minutes. Please wash up and enjoy."

Damian stood there shivering from embarrassment and anger, slowly turning to see the exhausted Remmy smiling just slightly back at him.

"What?" he snapped, ready to unleash the rest of his wrath.

"You're a virgin?"

"No!" he barked back too defensively.

She smiled harder, his blush deepening and no mood remained in his body, just fear and regret.

"*Tt*" she clicked her teeth, pulling her shirt back on so he couldn't see her half-naked body any longer, "That's too bad," she deliberately sounded sad, Damian knew this, but he couldn't help himself from asking.

"Why's that?"

"Because I'd want to show you everything," her eyes were still gleaming, a shade too dark that warned him of her lust, of her wandering mind, the same look she had written on her face last night when she transformed in front of him. He gulped, noticing his embarrassment was quickly overlooked by his physical reaction to her words. Her hungry eyes focused on his pants, the bulge growing as he smiled, pulling on it just slightly, holding her attention, entirely enthralled by the small amount of control that had just given him, before clearing his throat; "Lunch?"

She blinked up at him, crawling out of bed and buttoning her jeans, the same ones they had never managed to pull off so many hours ago,"Love some," she walked by, her hand shooting into his pants as she dropped to her knees, pulling his entire length into her mouth, hitting her throat and removing him, standing and out the door before he could even process what had happened.

"I"m pretty hungry,"


	9. Sick as your Secrets 9

_AN: I figured it might have been cool to actually insert a chapter that was of Bruce and Selina, explaining how they felt on the demonic transfusion, but I feel like it'd be another filler chapter and this story is coming to a close. If anyone wants to take that idea and run with it, let me know! I'd love to see how people would interpret that._

_-liddy_

* * *

Days had past and Dick and Damian avoided each other like the plague. The only one, shockingly, unfazed by the embarrassing moments of being caught was Remmy. She was an astute, quiet and witty she slowly had charmed over the Butler and to Dick's amazement often made Damian smile or even laugh; she goaded both good and the bad responses from him, but it never bothered her. She would bristle and call him out, but they never escalated, they never fought. And as tough as he fought it, Dick smiled at her quips, and somehow, tolerated her. But than he'd go and check on Bruce and Selina and see their wild eyes, their ferocious appetites and healed bodies and extreme sensitivity in their senses and that fear would turn to anger and his distaste and distrust for her would reignite.

"I'm going out," Damian called out to his father and Dick as he headed towards the batcycle, fully suited.

"Where are you going?" Bruce growled, blue eyes practically glowing as he traced his sons steps. He could see all the blurring color of his outfit even in the dimly lit cave, watched Damian as if he were flickering between heat vision and reality.

"Patrol." he answered flatly before the roar of the heavily modified bike drowned out any response, making bats from above cry out and fly through several exits; his bike followed suit as he left his family in shock and anger.

"That's ridiculous," Dick scowled at the healing Bruce, the ferocity of his adopted fathers eyes, the colors all starting to fade back. But he knew Bruce would never look at things the same, never see our worlds the same way. Sure, he has brushed lips and hearts with death on so many accords, but has he ever been given life from such intangible forces before? Had he ever even thought that possible? Of course not. Of course, no one would. He had been nearly devoured and then saved by a demon, a demon of the same lineage, a demon of the same possession. A demon that was with his son. Bruce tried to analyze, over analyze and configure the facts, the absolute indisputable truths, of the girls existence. And he couldn't. He had felt her blood seize his heart and instead of stopping it, her blood had pushed his so much further, so much faster than he could have ever imagined. He had glimpsed the world around him with such vivid clarity that he could nearly see through the molecules shakings too violently to make his existence solid, his sons' existences solid, Selina's body solid. It was overwhelming, anxious and claustrophobic. It had sent his entire body into reaction, into performance, into overdrive and then it receded, slowly, reluctantly letting going of his veins, his heart, his brain and the imagination that cured all of those existences, all those things that made him human. And it was still slow to kiss Bruce's body goodbye, so flourished, so at ease to mix within him. But the demons blood had served it purpose, had saved his life, had cured of him of her own disease.

He hated magic and that had to have been it. He had first turned to Clark Kent, so notoriously known as Superman, who had denied him help, his own hatred- fueled by fear- outweighing his loyalties. Diana had agreed to survey the girl, but warned Bruce of the past and all the horrific stories of demons in todays cultures are accurate and had stood the test of time for a reason. She was coming armed, guarded by her warriors and was accepting these terms only on the aspect of the girl being handed over.

He was handing Remmy over to savages and hadn't even glanced to tell Richard about it, hadn't flinched as he was so cold and angry about being denied any aspects of identity or truth behind the girls words. Demons, magic, violence- that was it, it was all the surface value, nothing for him to further investigate, nothing for him to solve, but his answers raged on and on, his human brain not being able to understand the aspect of the great beyond.

"How perfect," Dick finally laughed, finally relaxing after the days of problems and fear, "A demon for the little demon."

And Bruce's blazing blue eyes finally died out, returning to a cold, worried gaze and Dick knew they were back to normal, their sad, hanging color more reassuring than he could expect. But the guilt was slowly swallowing Bruce Wayne whole as he felt himself trying to sit further into his seat, willing it to swallow him and his whole horrible self up.

* * *

Damian had left the worries and unknown fears of betrayal far, far behind. Remmy had been down town already, patrolling the smaller areas before circling back to her apartment. She hadn't been able to shift in the past few days, her blood still desperately trying to replenish itself. But Damian's company and the strange experiences she had from the blood loss enlisted so many new feelings and experiences with the young man she somehow had forgotten about all the insecurities and problems they had caused to each other. But those moments in time in which they kissed or ate together, the few days they were able to sleep, huddled in makeshift forts of blankets and pillows across Damian's bed, such previous days in which they could close their eyes and turn their backs to the city, to the real world, to the pain in which they both carried every single day.

And it struck her as she had crawled back into her old apartment, climbing through the window and avoiding ripped up pages of her books, shredded futon and shattered window, that it was because Damian was the first person in so long that knew her at her actual core. He knew the most secret, most sacred and naked parts of her in physical and mental gestures. He had seen her at her worst and asked her questions, scooted closer, instead of running off in a howling shiver of a boy. In that realizing, true moment she inhaled deeply, eyes falling close and held her breath before exhaling deep; the shiver that followed her spine after her breath rushed out was calming and made her peach lips pull at the corners, dimples creating small shadows at her cheeks.

"What are you doing?" Remmy's brother revealed himself from the shadows of the kitchenette, shaking his head as his voice pinned her in place. His six foot six body, gangling and sinewy as he revealed his presence further into the dim light of the window, slowly reached out towards her; "Remmy?" his accent was thick, unhidden and her heart suddenly ached so deeply as she laid eyes upon her twin before her, his large calloused hands palm up towards her, just begging her to grasp it in her small scarred one.

"I don't know," her voice was her natural note again, so sad and strange that she instantly thought Damian would never recognize it.

"Do you really think you'd outrun all of this? The pack? _Me?"_ And though her twins voice held arrogance and dripped with a crippling threat, that last question was slightly offended, the sound in his voice went just slightly higher in tone as his red and gold eyes scanned hers. She couldn't hide them these last few days, too much effort after being drained.

"I- I don't know Rune," she had stretched out her hand and placed it inside of his without even thinking about it. She stared at it there, scars having formed slightly over the knuckle now, her skin more pallid than usual and it was unshakably small. It was small, pathetically so, inside his large, calloused palm and enclosed in his long, thick fingers. And yet when his heat held her cold hand and his warm, clean scent flooded her system she had to remember not to smile. And it was a hard thing to do.

"What are you doing?" and his baritone voice was a cooing rumble as he pulled her closer, her small five foot body gathered into his tanned, muscular arms and held against his toned, thin widespread chest for too many moments to count. Brother and Sister, twins, stood there in silence, in absolute stillness, inhaling each others scents and remembering how much they forgot about each other. They remembered that they had been brought into this world together, to fight and stand tall and constantly side by side. When Remmy looked back up at him her eyes brimmed with tears. She had forgotten, had run away out of fear and terror and repugnance of her own existence, let alone everything she had left behind. But now? Now seeing her brother stand before her? she realized that she had sacrificed so much and for so long for this single creature, this one thing in the world that understood and accepted her without question, without _need_ for questions. He loved her unconditionally before he even realized it.

She shook her head, only repeating, "I don't know."

"Come home."

"I can't."

"I'm asking you to," and Rune pulled away from her; it caused a stifled sob in her throat as she remembered herself, restraining from crawling bag to her twin, to that single comfort of family. "You have to come home."

"Were you going to ask me or take me when you came here last?" she had to know the truth and why they had attacked Batman and Catwoman, why he had left a very clear message.

"Would I ever get your attention otherwise?" and his steely voice froze her, quickly forcing her to forget all family bonds and shield herself from the cold formalities ahead.

"What now?"

"You leave with me or I can keep _asking_ you."

"Rune." she only said his name, her thick accent crawling in his name and her throat echoed the threatening growl towards him.

"I can ask your boyfriend. Or his family...the taller one? Richard?" and the sickening smile that spread across his lips was toothy and so cheerful that it could have chilled her already cold body.

"Stop."

"His butler."

"Stop."

"Or...like I said, your boyfriend." and that grin only spread ear to ear and Remmy finally dropped her gaze from him. She was defeated and he knew it. He knew it and was pouring salt all over her wounds.

"I could scoop him up one night, give him a little scratch in a scuffle. You know? Basic stuff." he shook his head, laughing idly at the merciless plans, "That infection will grow, that sickness will begin. He'll go after everyone and everything...fight, fuck, kill." Rune shrugged, tracing his fingers over the scar marks in the windowsill.

"Stop."

"He'll end up cornered, I've seen him with you. He's strong," Rune let out a long, low whistle before he chuckled again, "He'll be betrayed by his own police and his own government. He'll be slaughtered before you could even save him. I'm assuming, since you smell like a human and you're as icy as one, you don't even have enough blood that it would even be possible to save him." he shrugged, turning his attention back towards his twin sister, his smile faded slightly, no sharp teeth and pink gums exposed, but it held all that cruel intention none-the-less.

"Stop. Stop!" she finally held up her hands towards him, "I'll go, I'll go, I'll go home!" she barked out towards him as if that final blow had been physical, her voice ripping apart in her throat.

Rune reached out his large hand, his nails black and thick, curved like the true predator he is. He touched her cold cheek, brushing aside soft tears, staring into her eyes, his red reflecting her gold, her gold reflecting his red.

"Okay," he sighed, smile somehow kinder, "Okay. Let's go."

She shook her head out of his grasp, "Give me one night." she spoke as if out of breath, her lungs and heart suddenly aching. "One more night, I swear, I promise anything, I'll come home after tonight. I'll leave by dawn." she was fully crying now, staring up into his demonic eyes, pleading, asking one last thing from her twin.

"I hope he's worth it." and his tone was a final, snarling warning. "You're not from here, you'll never belong." his hand went to her face again, "They will never accept you. He will never love you." and his voice was imploring, praying for her to see reason.

"I know," she groaned in response, shutting her eyes tightly, "By god, I know." she shuddered out finally.

Rune was happy enough with her response and left her with a last note of their bargain. His hand went around her throat and traced his curling nails across it. Four streams of blood curved around her throat the instant his hand left her neck bare, only to return after he bit open his palm, letting the boiling blood pool there before mixing it across her open wound. Remmy kept her eyes closed, restraining the want to hiss and pull back at the burning sensation, but slowly, so slowly, she could feel the edges of the world becoming clearer as her twins blood reacted inside of her weakened cells.

"At dawn," he leaned in and kissed her cheek softly, nuzzling her short hair quickly before climbing his large body out the window.

"Dawn," she sighed, not bothering to watch him leave as she went to the bathroom to clean all the blood away.


	10. Sick as your Secrets 10

_**AN: Swears and Sexual situations ahead! You've been warned.**_

_**thanks for the follows, reviews and messages! I'm grateful for everyone reading this :3**_

* * *

Richard hardly said goodbye as he loaded up Titus and himself in the Batmobile, finding it highly unlikely that the demon spawn and the real demon weren't going to cause more harm than good- regardless of all the plain old facts that they had actually made a great team. Though fierce and often harming their captives, none were critical and none were a signature Damien overreaction. At least, for that, he was thankful. However, when he saw the deep impressions of claws and teeth on the natural earth he felt disgusted. He remembered finding blood and teeth marks in victims and suddenly, he slammed on the breaks, making Titus stumble in his passenger seat and growl loudly.

"She's bitten them!" he nearly howled in response, brain racing to connect the dots. Was she making an army? Were there more fights and "werewolf" sightings whilst she was indisposed in the manor? Was she fooling them all into this false sense of security? And his heart was pounding, eyes glaring so tightly they hardly saw the road before him. With grinding teeth Richard set the vehicle back into drive and was literally startled by Titus pawing at his tense and trembling arms. The giant dogs cocked head and softest whine relaxed him, letting his mind wander further, letting him plan his actions and ways to take the demon away from his brother. He went to stroke the dogs large ears before shaking his own head just slightly and barreling into the night of Gotham.

* * *

"Diana," Bruce's voice was tight, nearly growling in his throat as he spoke to Wonder Woman through his near limitless computer.

"She's from an old race, Batman," and the goddess' voice was thin, clipped, letting him know how serious she was. "The earliest traces of Demons come from all ancient histories. Some are called gods; some angels." her voice rattled with a tired sigh. "I think you're doing the right thing. This is dangerous, this Earth is, so far, free from such otherworldly degenerates. If she's hiding here you know that means someone is looking for her? Someone, like the attacks you received, is following her?"

"I know, Diana," and Bruce hunched forward, rubbing his eyes fiercely, the vivid and recent memories of the demonic blood still able to flood his skin with goosebumps. It was sheer, relentless power- he had felt nothing like it before and would appreciate it if he never did again, but that sensation, that unfathomable sensation? It was like all of his senses were amplified, animalistic and so acutely defined that even thinking about it now seemed past his comprehension. The way things smelled- the spring weather, the flowers blooming, the grass poking through? It was to die for. The touch and taste of Selina's skin? It was something he had no idea he could adore any deeper, but he had and it intensified each and every time. Even his cheap coffee felt amazing to drink, the bizarre buzz the caffeine had on his system remembered even after all the years of consumption and the hyperactivity bred in his blood was a constant hum he thoroughly enjoyed.

"You're doing the right thing, Bruce."

"I don't know,"

"That's the point," Diana's voice was tense, frustrated again and he could almost hear the slightest hint of fear. He realized she wasn't telling him something.

"When will you be here?"

"Dawn." and the communication went dead.

* * *

"What happened to you?" Damian asked upon entering Remmy's old apartment.

De ja vu.

"Nothing," and her smile disarmed him. The feature pulled at the corners of her eyes and he found dimples across her cheeks and instantly, Damian couldn't have helped it even if he cared to, had to smile in return. He entered the foyer, eyes hurriedly narrowing as he realized all the lights were out and only candles lit the studio apartment.

"Did they shut your electricity off? I swear I-" his mouth was silenced as Remmy slammed his back into the door, shutting it affectively.

"Shut up." she whispered into his smiling mouth, ripping at his cape, struggling desperately with his Kevlar shirt, giving up and figuring out releasing his utility belt, frustration making her hands runs back into his hair, pulling tightly to crush their mouths even harder together. Their breathing was labored, loud as they grasped at each others clothes, too hurried and too caught up in each others mouths to really care or undress one another as they went on exploring every inch of each others mouths.

Somehow they had made it to the small Futon in the middle of the bed, in the middle of all of the candles and as Damian pulled off his shirt, left only in his underwear and mask, he laid back and noticed something else.  
"Why are there flowers on your bed,"

Remmy grinned, leaning forward to rip off his mask, wanting to see his lusting blue eyes.

"Because I'm going to take your virginity." she grinned, the smile only growing wider as Damian's shocked expression only took milliseconds to erupt.

"I'm-I'm not-what the fuck did Richard tell you?!" he snapped, standing quickly only to find himself pulled back by a force he didn't know Remmy had in her arms. She was straddling him, the mixture of her body wash and the roses making his senses foggy and his consciousness heady.

"Than who have you been with? Supergirl?" and she crushed her lips to his as she was intoxicated by the flaming red blush that was across his face at the mere mention. "Is that a yes?" she asked into his lips, biting them in between each word.

"N-No." and he was shaking just slightly under her, his hands gently, slowly, crawling under her shirt and stroking her side. He started at her shoulders or right before her armpits and didn't stop until he circled both butt cheeks and started all over.

"Than who?" she pulled only slightly back to catch his gaze, but they were off somewhere else, somewhere secret. "Who, Damian." she demanded from him, sitting back up on his midsection and ridding herself of her shirt and bra. He stared up at her, his hands instantly going to grasp her breasts, he cupped them gently, as if they were precious and fragile.

"You?" and his question was so full of anxiety and need that it could have been Remmy's undoing all together. She smiled so kindly down to him, finally keeping his blue eyes on her brazen ones, his thumbs circling her nipples and his boxers were growing tight beneath her weight.

"Do you want it to be?" and her whisper fell back onto his ears and he answered with a slight shift in his hips.

"Yes." he spoke to her like they did that first night, a night that felt like a life time ago and was hardly a week back, as if they were still under all the covers, as if he still needed to nurse her back to health and safety. They spoke like they were the only ones left in the world.

She slowly, reluctantly pulled off his body, pushing him further onto the bed. The sheets smelled sweet, the mixture of the clean linen and rose petals and her hair and her body wash was like a tea he never heard of, never smelled or tasted before, but he couldn't get enough of it now. He sat up, propped by the arrangement of pillows and watched as she pulled her jeans off, crawling in beside him, topless with striped underwear that reminded him of gothic artists through out the city. He looked at her body, hands finding her side once more as she lay beside him, face to face, her legs curling into his as he scooted closer, and he was tracing scars like he had every night, every day since he saw them. They never ended, he couldn't count them, but he could try. He touched every one he could, every connected piece and discolored chunk of skin; he loved them- it was that simple.

"you're beautiful," he whispered, eyes finding hers. And he was heartbroken at the small, sad smile she returned him, "You are," he demanded she knew, gripping her chin between his finger and thumb, pulling her eyes to stare into his.

"What's wrong?" he barked, suddenly infuriated by the idea that she couldn't accept that he found her so beautiful, sitting up, making her sit up and face him. "What?" he shook her tattooed shoulders.

"Damian," she shrugged out of his forceful grip, peach lips set into a thin line, "You don't know all the ugly parts of me. It goes so much further than skin deep," she scoffed, gesturing towards her mutilated body.

"Tell me!"He went to grab her face again, but she pulled away from him, standing now, at the foot of the bed, the flickering of the candles around them making her seem ethereal as all the scars, the tattoos, the strangely colored eyes danced in his vision. "Tell me why your blood heals wounds, tell me why you're a demon, tell me why you have two toned eyes!" he sat there, his voice needing though petulant as he yelled at her, staring her down as she stood unaffected in the shaky shadows. "Tell me how old you are, what you're running from! Are you a Queen? Who have you killed? How did you survive? What's your surname?!" his breathing was panicky and his voice was starting to bellow. "Tell me what your scars are from!? Tell me everything!" he started to inch towards her just like he had the night she transformed in front of him. The night they thought was enough, the night that sealed them together like this in an insane twist of time.

"There are some things you will never understand, Damian!" she snapped, her body stock sill in the glowing candlelight. "Things this world, this universe _cannot_ and _will not_ understand. I am a_ demon_, we don't play by your rules. They don't exist; rely on your science all you want, you will never find your answers- only and _ever only_ more burning questions." She rallied, pouncing on him and kissing him so hard she could bruise their lips. "Damian, you could be the greatest detective, but it isn't shit, babe." And her accent had flooded her words, her voice rattling in his heart and brain. He could practically taste her in that sound and knew now more than any minute before and any minute yet to come, he wanted-no! needed her, more than he could ever say. Not in any tongue he spoke or even from her so Desired one. Damian was crushing her body between him and the soft mattress, biting her lower lip with pained hunger. He ha denied her too long and it was a carnal snap of his senses that overwhelmed them, his hand gliding to her side, reaching the curve of her butt and aggressively massaging it. His throat rumbled with a guttural noise of pleasure and heady frustration.

"Stop asking me things you don't want to know," she spoke, biting hard into his neck.

"Don't think I'll ever stop," he growled back, ripping her panties off and rolling his own down. His finger found her lower stomach, slowly following the spiral tattoos until they found her wet sex and he devoured her mouth into his has his fingers entered her.

Only moments later and Remmy was on top of him, leaning over his shivery, heavy breathing chest as she stared down into his blue eyes. She took control of him, rubbing him against her sex and smiling endlessly as she watched when his baby blues rolled into the back of his head, his back arching as his hips automatically tried to pump into her. His hands gripped her hips tightly, his eyes focusing on her body on top of him, his fantasies literally coming true as Remmy was intimately naked with him. It struck him, momentarily, that he had never really felt like a sensual, important time would reveal itself that he'd lose his virginity. Frankly, he had hoped it would have occurred some night when he would attend college to take over the Wayne company, but this? This was what he's been waiting for. And she made it important, made sure it was something memorable. He smiled gently at the thoughtfulness she had for him, wanting to share this moment with him.

_Fucking roses,_ he smiled, returning her fevered kisses as she was on him in a slow, solid movement, taking his full length into her and riding on top of him. His body writhed beneath her, a loud shocked sigh escaping his lips as the pleasure erupted through his body. Soft, slow strokes made waves crash through his system as he stared up at her, his hands gripping her tattooed hips and his own moving into her, circling as slowly as he could. She smiled devilishly down at him after his eyes finally settled on her and to his shock and awe, she picked up the pace and he was incapable of stopping himself unravel inside of her in mere momentary soft strokes. Her smile only broadened as his shaking body stalled beneath her and she kissed him gently before laying beside him, staring up at his flushed face and the long lashes of his closed eyes as he wrapped her protectively in his arms.

"I'm going to count your scars every morning and every night," his tired voice startled her as badly as his soft touch, his calloused thumb running so gently over the four new scars across her throat.

* * *

"I don't know about this,Wonder Woman," Bruce growled beneath his cowl towards the woman. She was nonplussed as she looked back towards him, her small army of amazons enclosing them. They had followed the trails of the blood and some of Diana's women were exceptional trackers of the supernatural, finding distinct trails to Remmy's old apartment.

"Don't worry, old friend," she laughed as they descended upon the den of demons.


	11. Not a chapter

_**AN:**_

_**Just really wanted to let you guys know that as soon as I can get the free time I'll be uploading a handful of new chapters. Supersupersuper sorry that it's wicked late!**_

_**thank you for your understanding!**_


	12. Sick as your Secrets 11

"There's been a total of 62 people bitten by unexplained "things", Titus, these things we obviously know is really Remmy," Richard went on hurriedly explaining to the dog as he raced towards the lower east side, his voice rushed and excited. "So here's the issue, she's a demon and apparently her saliva is parasitic, which we even tested and came back positive!" he added in disbelief, "but none of these people have reported any infections, any fevers or, what I feared, any sort of blood issue or weird CBC tests or extra-sensory-feelings. In fact most of the wounds healed with amazing ease and speed! Can you believe it? We've been looking at the question all wrong. Shit, there's always exceptions to rules, how could we have overlooked that? I can't wait to get back to the lab," he thumped his hand on the steering wheel of the car. "I'll show you worlds greatest detective, Gotham, just you wait." He finished, Titus whining in response yet again as they sped through the small side streets past the theater district.

Richard was shocked to stumble upon Remmy's old apartment with a fully suited Robin sitting on the edge of an old, sagging futon. The room reeked of sweat, roses and herbal concoctions from burnt out candles that lined the entire room.

"Hey," Richard's confused expression was mostly hidden by his mask, but his voice carried it softly.

"Hey," Damian replied, not even looking towards him.

"Where's Remmy?"

* * *

_"Diana," Bruce's voice was tight, nearly growling in his throat as he spoke to Wonder Woman through his near limitless computer._

_"She's from an old race, Batman," and the goddess' voice was thin, clipped, letting him know how serious she was. "The earliest traces of Demons come from all ancient histories. Some are called gods; some angels." her voice rattled with a tired sigh. "I think you're doing the right thing. This is dangerous, this Earth is, so far, free from such otherworldly degenerates. If she's hiding here you know that means someone is looking for her? Someone, like the attacks you received, is following her?"_

_"I know, Diana," and Bruce hunched forward, rubbing his eyes fiercely, the vivid and recent memories of the demonic blood still able to flood his skin with goosebumps. It was sheer, relentless power- he had felt nothing like it before and would appreciate it if he never did again, but that sensation, that unfathomable sensation? It was like all of his senses were amplified, animalistic and so acutely defined that even thinking about it now seemed past his comprehension. The way things smelled- the spring weather, the flowers blooming, the grass poking through? It was to die for. The touch and taste of Selina's skin? It was something he had no idea he could adore any deeper, but he had and it intensified each and every time. Even his cheap coffee felt amazing to drink, the bizarre buzz the caffeine had on his system remembered even after all the years of consumption and the hyperactivity that bred in his blood was constant hum he thoroughly enjoyed._

_"You're doing the right thing, Bruce."_

_"I don't know,"_

_"That's the point," Diana's voice was tense, frustrated again and he could almost hear the slightest hint of fear. He realized she wasn't telling him something._

_"When will you be here?"_

_"Dawn." and the communication went dead._

* * *

As if waiting for them, shadows erupted as the Amazons and Batman arrived on the rooftop of the rotting building in the lower east side. Shadows that turned into giant gnashing teeth and that dripped with venomous saliva and burrowed into demi-god flesh and kevlar suit. Highly trained women-warriors- goddesses, they yelled out in surprise and pain. The bite was agonizing, and the saliva that oozed into them burned at their skin and sucked the blood out of their bodies quicker than what was deemed physically possible.

"It's a trap!" Wonder Woman screamed out as her body was starting to feel the drugged affect of the demonic spit. It was a set up. Batman must have been in on this.

"Tell them to fall back!" Bruce was screaming, hardly capable of incapacitating the nearly eight foot bodies of teeth and claws around him. "Fall back!" he warned again, feeling the pressure of teeth finally tearing through his body armor. "_FALL BACK_!" he bellowed, trying desperately to shake this monstrous creature from his body. Instead Batman was thrown nearly fifteen feet, landing hard on his back- his breath was knocked out of his body, his head spinning from the pain. Finally, his eyes started to focus and turned only to find sheer bloodshed around him. He looked upon the severed head of one of Wonder Woman's amazonian warriors, her eyes and face forever damned to be held into a terrified, silent scream. Nausea hit his system as a concussion was surely taking hold of his painful senses and he pulled himself to a sitting position to be face to face with a dual eyed attacker. Fear and anger gripped his body as he felt to recognize those red and gold colors and hatred of pain and betrayal and the sudden fear for his son sent him flying to his feet. And fear made him realize that these gold and red eyes were not that of the familiar Remmys', but of someone nearly twice her size and his figure emanated predatory skill.

"You smell like fear." and that bizarre accent flooded Batman's ears, the one very familiar to the demon that saved his life.

As he opened his mouth to retort, something fast, furious and silver ran like a bullet into the side of this bizarre demons body. Diana's hands were yanking Bruce's shoulders backwards, her small troop of warriors had dwindled to a mere few and suddenly it was as if instinct for self preservation had finally taken over and propelled them to all start retreating.

* * *

_"You gave me your word," Rune snarled from the shadows, his voice low and flat._

_"I don't see the sun, just yet," Remmy spat back, a wicked smile playing at the corners of her lips._

_"You're deplorable,"_

_Remmy shrugged, "Guess it runs in the family?" _

* * *

"She left," Damian looked up, finding Richard's body stock still in the doorway.

"What?"

"She's gone, Dick." Damian's voice was quiet and something was entirely unfamiliar enveloped inside of it.

"Where?"

"Who knows?" he spoke as he rose to his feet, his shoulders hunched forward, body just lightly shivering. His feet dragged as he joined his ally at the door. Richard, without thinking, put his hand on the young Wayne's shoulder and squeezed it gently. The tone that was so unfamiliar reflected in the physical lax response from the demon child as well. It was as if all the wind had been pulled from his sails, as if emotion and flection was far too much to bear at that moment. What had the demon done to him?

"Dami-"

"No,"

"Dami-"

"No! Richard!" his voice was tight again, violent in response and he pulled himself back into Remmy's apartment.

"Let's go home?" Dicks voice was quiet, much more natural as he tried to approach his brother again.

"No," Damian went back and sat heavily on the edge of the weak futon.

"Why?"

"*Tt*"

"Okay," Richard raised his hands palms up in defeat, "Okay," he said again, softer as he approached his brother slowly. He took a seat beside him as his hand awkwardly, unsure of it's path, slowly went back to rest on Damian's shoulder.

"I'll wait with you."

"*Tt*"

* * *

_...Gotham city seems like it is teeming with energy, some sort of soft buzz that you inhale almost immediately as you enter the city's core, looking out on all the bridges, the buildings, the harbor that encircles this timeless place._

_I already feel like I'm crawling in my skin. This timeless city has its past, its present and it's cruel, cruel intentions. But if you travel far enough, deep enough, like I have, you'll realize that every single street in every single city has at least once tasted blood._

_It's only a matter of pomp and circumstance, a slot on the dinner-time-news that damns us or hides our dirty, stained secrets._

Remmy had been able to distract Rune and her pack members long enough to let the Amazons gather their fallen and dead. Long lines of deep wounds had created themselves across Remmy's silver figure, mixing between the white scar tissue and deep grey bruises as she glared hatefully up towards her brother, her twin, her attacker.

"Your word, Princess!" he spat, acidic drool burning into the skin off her face as she glared back into his gold and red eyes, her lips quivering as the sound of viciousness erupted in a scream from between her teeth.

"Fuck you!" she spat back, her voice strangled beneath his crushing grip.

"Your bond, Princess!"

"_Fuck, _you!" she snapped back, her struggling efforts were weakening beneath his grip that pinned her to the crumbling cement and gravel across the filthy blood stained rooftop.

"_Your pack, Princess!"_

_"Fuck you!"_

_"Your blood!"_

_"No!"_ and the darkness, warm and suffocating was consuming her yet again and the sensation wasn't warranted. Remmy's fear shuddered her heart to a sudden stop as her inhuman gaze had cast aside to find the familiar outline of Robin's figure, the yellow and green cape flickering across a background of sheer black sky and a final gasp was all she could manage as her pupils expanded into ovals so large they erased the colors of her irises, fear and pain coursing through her all the way through even her deepest unconsciousness that her body finally succumbed to.

* * *

"I'm not leaving, here, Richard." Damian's body was suffering a near constant tremor as he explained what he could barely remember.


	13. Sick as your Secrets 12

**_AN: Just for fun Can anyone guess the dual meaning of 64? _**

**_-liddy_**

* * *

_It's been sixty-four days. _

"Damian, why don't you come home?" Dick asked over the small table, leaning back as he was thoroughly satisfied and finished with the vegan meal his younger brother had prepared for them. Damian had moved out of Manor that night, his family trying desperately to understand his need to live on his own so suddenly and in the apartment of, well, the single girl that had caused all the hellish mayhem in and of itself in their city and in their lives. Dick was by far the most patient, as had always been a trait well observed of the older crime fighter, allowing Damian to deal with the sudden loss of Remmy in any way that he could. Well, any way that didn't invoke violence and rebuke.

Damian silently cleaned the dishes away, placing them quietly in the small sink that opened up in the tiny kitchenette that he had set the folding chairs and table beside. He began washing them, the water running at a weak pressure and only getting to a lukewarm temperature. Dick was starting to miss the snide click of Damian's tongue against his teeth. It's been like this for the past few months now.

"Okay," Dick stood slowly, readying himself to leave for the night. This had been the routine for the past few weeks. He had promised him he would wait, and he had. Dick had been here in silence with Damian, during nights of breaking dishes and throwing staves and breaking bars on the fire escapes. He had been here when he would wander out on to the rooftop and find Damian sitting, almost meditating, in the place he last saw her. He would watch him, from a safe distance, when he would walk around and trace the fighting steps of all involved across the roof. He would also see the way Damian's hands would trace over thick scars in the metal of the ladders of the fire escape and the deep grooves in the wood of the window pane of his apartment. They were small, simple things he remembered her by. They were small things to remind him that she was in fact real.

_It's been sixty-four days since that night. _

_Or was it morning? Would that make it sixty-three? _

"Want to walk me out?" Dick asked as he watched Damian dry the dishes and replace them in the small, uneven cabinets of the tiny kitchen. It often surprised him to see the self entitled kid even cook for himself, let alone clean up after a guest. In the few weeks that had past it seemed to have taken the toll of years on Damian. Pain and confusion did that to most. The younger Wayne simply nodded in response, eyes though meeting with Dick's simply didn't seem to see him at all. It was as if he were somewhere else, or someone else, or some time elsewhere.

"Okay," Dick said, shrugging into his thin jacket, the summer having finally made Gotham humid and bearable most nights, but it was starting to rain when he had first arrived and he figured a good run back to the manor would be a sufficient exercise for the night and wouldn't cause too much suspicion from Bruce on his whereabouts. To Dick's surprise, Damian had grabbed a burlap bag that had been crudely sewn back together, filled with things he couldn't tell and didn't ask, and followed him out the front door.

_Stop. _

_. Sixty-four days since my father's blood had been infected, and later cured, by demonic infection. Sixty-Four days ago Richard had figured out the clue to Remmy's blood- it was a cure to some of the most damaging of normal and paranormal causes. It was a healing elixir that had few limitations. It had taken Richard a few rounds of trial and error, but he had been able to save his father and some of the Amazon warriors with a little luck (and a lot of faith). _

"Where are you going?" Dick finally asked as they stepped out onto the wet cement of the streets below.

"Out." Damian's voice was queit, rasping as if it too had aged these few months.

"Okay." Dick responded, eyes darting to watch Damian readjust the heavy bag on his shoulder.

_It's been sixty-four days since a demonic clan, named "Wyrm" I have found, had killed three Amazonian warriors. It had been sixty-four days since I've last seen Remmy. It's been just a little less time since I figured out that she was in fact the monarchial leader of these demons. It's been sixty-four days since she disappeared right before my eyes. It's been sixty-four days since all logic of this world had made sense to me, sixty-four days since Richard found me sitting here in silence in the aftermath. It's been sixty-four days that I've planned this. So many days that I have raked over this idea, so many days since I've created networks of connections and clues. So many days and so many times since I had been on that roof and examined and re-examined that carnage. It's been sixty-four days that I've promised myself I will find her. _

"How's Father?" Damian's question surprised Richard to the point he couldn't hide it.

He hesitated, causing his younger brother to look to him with narrowed eyes, "He's better,"

_It's been sixty-four days of a battle over an addiction to an inhuman substance has gripped my fathers system- heart and soul. _

"Good." Damian responded and they began walking down the streets towards the theater district.

"Titus misses you," Dick shrugged, shoving his hands hard into his jacket pockets.

"I'm sure." it was a relief just to hear Damian speak at this point.

"You're going after her, aren't you?"

Damian didn't respond, just kept pace with his brother. Richard realized than how long Damian's legs were, actually finding that his younger brother was nearly taller than him now. Damian was nearly eighteen and Richard felt like the kid was going on immortality, or was it becoming ancient?

"Why, Damian? Just, please," Richard stopped, firm grip encircling the other boys forearm.

Damian's eyes shut softly and he inhaled deeply through his nose, holding his breath.

_It's like I can still smell the rose and jasmine from the candles and the fresh, clean lavender smell from the bar of soap Alfred had bought for her in the short time she stayed at our house. How can I explain that her company is like a salve to my mind? How can I explain that I physically want her skin against my skin, how can I describe the way her spine curves and her stomach presses flat and hard into mine? How could I explain that I want to touch and count and admire every single scar on her body? How can I explain that when I stared into her eyes as she made love to me that I think I saw a reflection of admiration? How could you possibly understand any of this, Dick? I can't. How can I explain to you that all I want to see her again, at least once, to make sure she's even alive? How could I ever tell you that the idea that she's in fact dead makes my throat feel like it's closing off? How could I ever make you see that if she is dead I will destroy everything about her heritage and her world because without her what would the point? _

"I don't know." Damian exhaled in a long sigh.

"Bruce misses you,"

"I know."

"When do you think you'll come home?"

"When I'm done here."

_Sixty-four days of my heart feeling sick and my brain feeling drugged. Sixty-four days of my father's body being riddle with an addiction no one has before fought. Sixty-four days of grief and confusion._

"I want answers, that's what I'm looking for, Dick." Damian started to ascend a fire escape, heading to the well known and well tracked rooftop yet again, "I'll be home when I find them."

"I mean the manor,"

"A bird has to leave the nest eventually, right?" Damian smirked ruefully down at Dick as he was climbing lanquidly upwards.

"Not before they can fly,"

"*Tt*"


End file.
